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mOBBliES’ TOUl? 



New York : 

J. S. OGILVIE, PUBLISHER, 
57 Rose Street. 


5 ](^ 









THE FIRESIDE SERIES, No. 109. Issued Monthly. Subscription Price, i;3.0C per Vear. May, 1890, 
Entered at New York Post-Office as Second-class ui.atter. Copyiight by J. S. Ogilvie. 





A .>ew Booh, Comprising a Series of 


Thirty oi the Best Sermons 

EVE1{ L'i-m’EKKD BY 

REV. T. DE Win TALMAGE, D.D., 

Who is, without any question, the most popular 
preacher of the century. 

THIS BOOK ALSO CONTAINS 


Complete Life of this Famous Preacher. 

ALSO 20 FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. 

It contains Thirteen Sermons on the Wedding Ring. 

Twelve Sermons on Woman; Her Power ard Privileges. 
Six Sermons entitled the Battle for Bread. 

On the Relations of Lahor and Capital. 

In addition to the thirty-one sermons described above, the book also con- 
tains the complete Life of Rev. T. De W itt Talmage, D.D , with a history of the 
Brooklyn Tabernacle. Edited by John Lobb, F.R.G S. This history of his life 
is alone worth much more than the price of the book, and contams facts in 
reference to his early struggles and experiences which have ne^er before 
er»'C .red in print in this country. 

*_.flong the hundreds of thousands of people who have read the utterances 
of this wonderfully successful man there are none but will be glad to ho.ve this 
book. 

It contains 725 pages, and is sold at the following remarkably low 
prices, in order that every family may be provided with a copy of it. 

Bound in handsome Silh Cloth, with Ink and Gold Stamp, $1.50 } 
bound in Half Bus sia. Marbled Mdges, $2.00, 

Sent by mail, post-paid, to any address on receipt of price. 

AGHK'TS "WANTHO in every town to sell this book, 50 per cent 

discount to live men and wmmen. 

To any person who mentions where they saw this advertisement I w’ill s»end 
r Prospectus Book, with full particulars, and a copy of the book, bound in 
cloth, for St.50, provided you state that you wish to act as agent, and state 
what territo’-y you can use to advantage. Address all orders and applications 
for an agency to 

J. S. OGIIvVIE, Publislier, 

P. O. Box 2767. r>7 Bose St., New Torlc. 


WOBBLES’ TOUR 


AROUND THE PVORLD ON A 
BICYCLE. 


E. R.XOLLINS. 


1Fnu5tratcC> bg c:boma6 '^ortb. 


Copyright^ 1890, by J. S. Ogilvie. 




J. S. OGILVIE, PUBLISHER. 
57 ROSE STREET. 




PREFACE. 


Apology, for the appearance of this book, 
there is none. I have gathered a few of my 
sketches that have appeared in the columns of 
Texas Siftmgs^ Peck's Suuy- The Yankee Blade, 
and Recreation, and combine them in this little 
volume, without the least excuse, but in the 
hope that it may assist to while away some 
tedious hour. 


E. R. Collins. 



i 




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DEDICATION. 

To my friend A. Miner Griswold (the “ Fat 
Contributor”), Editor^ of Texas Siftings, to 
whom I am indebted for many valuable sugges- 
tions, and who is responsible for The Tour 
Around the World, this volume is respectfully 
dedicated by 


The Author. 




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MY WHEEL AND I. 


Old wheel, since we have traveled together, 
Many a merry mile we’ve run 
In the cool and dewy evening, 

Under the glare of the midday sun. 

Where the road was smooth and level; 

Up the hill and through the vale. 

O’er all roads and in all weathers 
Flying swift as a Summer gale. 

You’ve been a constant and kind companion, 

And a sturdy steed, my glistening wheel 
You’ve, played a partdn my joys and sorrows. 
And my changing moods you seemed to feel. 
When the way was long and the road was heavy. 
In sympathy kind you went quite slow. 

And when from home and you were broken, 

In turn I felt the weight of woe. 

In hours of trial and time of danger, 

You quickly responded to every call, 

Your springing levers and clicking ratchets, 

' Generally “ got there ” first of all. 

And if beside the door you rested 
No fear of her father hung like a pall. 

The old man’s boot was quickly distanced; 

The bull-dog had no chance at all. 


The Autumn leaves along our pathway 
Tell that our wandering soon must cease, 
ril go back to routine business, 

You to a Winter of rest and peace. 

But, next year when gentle Spring-time 
Scatters her flowers o’er hill and plain, 
Old Star, I’ll polish up your nickel 
And we’ll take to the road again. 


WOBBLES’ TOUR 


CHAPTER I. 

Theophilus Wobble, of New York, having 
been advised by his physician to try bicycling 
in order to reduce his extreme corpulency, de- 
termined to undertake a trip around the world, 
being satisfied that nothing short of vanquish- 
ing the earth’s circumference would be sufficient 
to reduce his own. So, after a few preliminary 
lessons in mounting and riding a bicycle, he 
set out on his long and perilous journey. 

His first adventure was at the Jersey City 
ferry. The boat had pulled out when he ar- 
rived in great haste, but he was under such head- 
way that he couldn’t stop so he pluckily took a 
flying leap and got there, Eli, amid the plaudits 
of the spectators. 

Bowling along through New Jersey he was 


10 


chased and nearly overtaken by an infuriated 
bull that had broken loose and was pawing up 
the earth, seeking whom he might gore. But 



i!;- speed and luck prevailed and he got awao. 
^ Wobble, like all fat men, is good-natured and 
obliging, and fond of children, so when he over- 
took a bevy of them going to school and they 
;■ asked him to give them a lift, he cried out gaily, 
jump ’board!” which they very promptly did. 


11 


Following the line of the Erie Railway, 
through picturesque and romantic Pennsylva- 
nia, he observed that the road-bed was remark- 
ably smooth, so he took the track. Shortly 



after he heard the warning toot, toot, of a loco- 
motive and realized that an express train was 
thundering down upon his unprotected rear. A 
sudden wild desire seized him to see if he 
couldn’t beat that train into the next station on 
its own track. He miscalculated his own' rate 
of speed or that of the train, for this is the way 


12 


the plucky, but indiscreet fat man was brought 
in. 

Fortunately for Wobble and the continua- 
tion of his trip around the world, the cow- 
catcher picked him up so gently that he wasn’t 



much hurt, and when his bicycle was disen- 
tangled from the smoke-stack, where it hung a 
mournful trophy, it was found to be not irre- 



parably damaged. After threatening to report 
the engineer for carrying passengers on his en- 



14 


CHAPTER 11. 

The trip around the world on a bicycle, which 
Mr. Wobble undertook, continued without 
special incident till he reached Niagara Falls, 



when he conceived the idea of crossing the 
awful chasm on a cable, thereby eclipsing Blon- 
din himself. A cable was stretched from shore 








15 

to shore, and although the great weight of the 
fat man caused it to sag fearfully, he crossed 
Niagara in triumph amid the plaudits of thous- 
ands of spectators on either shore. 

Passing through Canada he was much an- 



noyed by ex-presidents of banks, ex-cashiers, 
ex-aldermen, and defaulters of various kinds, 
who came out to meet him, asking in a confi- 
dential way. How much did you get away 
with?" 

The wheelmen of Chicago turned out in force 




16 

when they heard of his coming, and escorted 
him into the city headed by a brass band. They 
decorated him with badges and medals of vari- 
ous kinds, and his progress into the city was a 
triumphal march. 

He passed the Mississippi in safety, but in 
crossing the plains he was chased by Indians, 



CHASED BY INDIANS. 

who hadn’t scalped a real, genuine fat man for 
many, many moons. And if they had got 
Wobble’s scalp there wouldn’t have been any 
hair on it 


Wobble is a bachelor and hates women, so 
when he approached Salt Lake City he made a 
wide detour, in order to avoid meeting any of 
■ he susceptible ladies of that city. But a lot of 


A LOT OF MORMON WIDOWS. 

Mormon widows got wind of his intention, and, 
mounting their fiery and untamed tricycles, they 
chased him .over fifty miles but, fortunately, 
without overtaking him. It was a narrow es- 
cape for Wobble, however. He was more 
frightened than he was when the Indians were 
after him. so he said. 



CHAPTER III. 


Through dangers and tribulations, our fat 
friend persevered in his ascent of the Rocky 
Mountains, but he surmounted them all in 
safety, and finally made the descent on the west- 
ern slope in the following airy manner : 



Arrived in San Francisco, he was enthusiastic- 
ally received and dined by the Fat Men’s Club 
of that city. A match was made up for him to 





race against a horse, and the fat man won, 
easily. 

Continuing his journey, he at length reached 
Alaska, where he was successful in securing a 
pair of trained seals, which he hitched on to a 


raft, and by their aid he was enabled to make 
the passage of Behring Strait. 

He had been on Russian soil but a short time, 
however, when he became an object of sus- 



THE PASSAGE OF BEHRING STRAIT. 


picion. It was the first bicycle they had ever 
seen there, and it created no little alarm among 
those simple peasants. Information was sent 


21 


to the authorities, and it was not long before 
Wobble was arrested as a Nihilist, and con- 
ducted, together with his diabolical machine 



(which they took to be a new contrivance for 
blowing up the Czar), in the direction of St. 
Petersburg. 



■ thorities, on suspicion of being a Nihilist, was 
^ recorded in our last chapter. Visions of Si- 
beria floated before his troubled vision, but hap- 
. pily the Czar knew something of the bicycle, 
' and, sending for the adventurous Anierican, he 
/ granted him an audience. 




The Czar received him with much kindness, , / , 
asking him many questions about his wheel, ; 
and on dismissing him decorated him with the , 
Order of the Royal Knout, the highest in 
Russia. - V 

Not long after leaving St. Petersburg Wob- 


THE MAZEPPA ACT. 


•tj 


ble fell into the hands of some mad wags, who 
thought it would be great fun to put him 
through the Mazeppa act, which they did by 
binding him on his bicycle, “with many a 
thong,” and setting it whirling down a steep in- 


24 


dine. Resistance was useless, and he had to 
submit to his fate. As Mazeppa was followed 
by a troop of wild horses, so Wobble, in his 



WONDERING COSSACKS. 

swift descent, was favored with an escort of 
wolves. 

Away ! away ! and on we dash ; 

Torrents less rapid and less rash.” 

— Byron. 

Wobble had often sat in a theatre and wit- 
nessed the thrilling descent from the flies of a 
mimic Mazeppa, mounted on his fiery and un- 
tamed steed, but never did he dream that he 


himself would play the r6le among the savage 
steppes of Russia. He became unconscious 
from fear and fatigue, and when he recovered 
his senses he found himself extended upon the 
ground, surrounded by a group of wondering 
Cossacks. 



likely to come to a disastrous conclusion, but 
he recovered from his Mazeppa ride, thanks 



to the tender nursing he received at the hands 
of the Cossacks among whom he had fallen, 
and he was soon able to resume his journey. 





27 


He was received with the greatest honors when 
he entered Chinese territory, a royal guard being 
sent as an escort to Pekin. 

He very readily fell into the customs and 
ways of the Celestials and enjoyed his journey 



A CUP op TEA EN ROUTE. 


through the Jand of the tea-raisers very much. 
The hospitable people pressed refreshments 
upon him continually, and whenever he became 
weary he was refreshed by a cup of tea en route. 


28 




He was presented to the Emperor of China 
immediately upon his arrival at the capital, and 
at his special request, in the presence of the 
Emperor and all his court, he gave an exhibi- 



AN EXHIBITION OF SKILL. 


tion of skill in riding the bicycle that excited 
the astonishment of all who witnessed it. The 
Emperor was filled with amazement, and his 


29 


lords and high chamberlains were so overcome 
that they hid their faces in the dust. 

Wobble induced the descendant of the Sun 
to take a mount behind him, treating him to a 



TAKE A MOUNT 

novel and exhilarating ride around the palace 
court. The Emperor enjoyed it very much until 
the fat man took a header, which was very dis- 
astrous to both, and threatened at one time to 





30 



endanger the harmony that has so long prevailed 
between the United States and China, but they 


TOOK A HEADER. 


finally took a cup of tea together and good feel- 
ing was restored. 



\ That we may not weary our readers with too 
many details regarding Wobble’s trip around 




r: 





A ROYAL BENGAL TIGER. 




the world, we permit him to leap, at a single 
bound, from China into India.. Reposing one 




32 


sultry day under a palm tree, he awoke from a 
short dose to find his wheel missing. Spring- 
ing to his feet he saw that a royal Bengal tiger 



had mounted it and was flying down the road. 
Regardless of danger^ he started in pursuit, wild- 
ly shouting, “Police! Stop thief!’ and other 
exclamations employed in his own country, but 
not at all understood in India, particularly 


among the tigers. His description of the race 
and of his overtaking the tiger is a moving tale ; 
but we haven’t room for it here. After run- 
ning himself nearly out of breath, he suddenly 



SHOT HIM DEAD. 


recollected that he was armed, and drawing his 
revolver (the artist, you will perceive, has drawn 
it also) he shot him dead, thereby regaining his 


34 


bicyclec After he had regained his breath, also, 
he dexterously skinned his foe, and resumed his 
journey in triumph. 



CHAPTER VII. 


There are few countries where a bicyclist can 
enjoy himself more than in India, owing to the 
diversity of its climate, topography, and produc- 



tions. Chiefest among the productions are ele- 
phants, monkeys, cyclones, tigers, brahmins, 
jugglers, etc. The latter are wonderfully ex- 
pert. They can not only palm cards, but palm 


trees sixty feet high. The monkeys, who are 
undoubtedly the original inhabitants of India, 
were delighted with Wobble and his bicycle, 
and one of them was quite carried awaw with it. 

Wobble thought he would give almost any 
amount to regain possession of his wheel, but 



MONKEY WITH THE WHEEL. 


finally concluded to give chase. That would 
not have availed, however, had not the rider 
taken a header, a warning to creatures of that 
species not to monkey with the wheel. 

It will be perceived by the above cut that 
Wobble’s reception by the natives was of the 


37 


most enthusiastic description. They showered 
him with their choicest cocoanuts, and would 
have fired chestnuts at him, too, only they prob- 
ably had a presentiment that we would do that. 

A wealthy rajah sent his favorite trained 



TRAINED ELEPHANT 


elephant for the adventurous Wobble to ride 
through his dominions, lending him the royal 
robes for that special occasion. Proudly sus- 
taining his wheel by one hand, and the flag of 


38 


his country by the other, Wobble presented a 
picture of grandeur and magnificence rarely 
equaled. He finished his triumphant tour 
through the country by India’s grand trunk line. 



GRAND TRUNK LINE. 


39 


CHAPTER VIII. 

The adventurous Wobble passed from India 
into Persia, exciting the utmost curiosity where- 



THE SHAH OF PERSIA. 


ever he appeared. In some places the inhabi- 
tants showed a desire to “ fire” him, being fire 
worshippers, but he proved that he was one of 




iO 

that sect himself by displaying the badge of a 
New York fire company, of which he was 
formerly a member, and they let him off. 

The Shah of Persia went out from his capitol 



A LESSON ON THE BICYCLE. 


several miles on foot to meet him, and he re- 
ceived him in a very gracious manner. He 
inquired affectionately after his numerous rela- 
tives, the Shaws of America, and was so friendly 


41 


that Wobble volunteered to give him a. lesson on 
the bicycle. 

The result was so unsatisfactory, however, that 
Wobble gave up in despair and exclaimed — 



ACROSS THE DESERT. 


Pcarse, shun the wheel,” and you will prob- 
ably see a Persian the bicycle henceforward. 

Wobble engaged an Arab guide to conduct 
him across the desert. 

It required lots of sand to plow through, 
and Wobble worked manfully at the treadle, 


42 


but he was finally compelled to succumb and 
beg the Arab to take him in tow. 



IN TOW. 


43 


CHAPTER IX. 

The great Carthagenian general carried the 
war into Africa, and so did Wobble, though 
Hannibal himself hardly produced greater con- 



A WHITE DEMON. 


sternation than did the appearance of our val- 
iant wheelman. The natives climbed conven- 
ient trees or fled in dismay, believing the strange 


44 


rider to be a white demon on wheels. Some 
prostrated themselves in the dust, assuming atti- 
tudes of supplication, all of which was very amus- 
ing to Wobble, who wasn’t accustomed to being 
looked up to very much at home. It made him 



A MOUNT. 


feel as though he could carry the entire colored 
vote in case he concluded to run for something 
in Africa. 

The African ladies whom he encountered did 
not appear to share the terrors of the men. 
They regarded the mysterious stranger with 


u 


friendly curiosity, and he had no difficulty in 
inducing a couple of them to take a mount. 
We have heard a vague rumor that Wobble 
was a gallant man, and this adventure certainly 
gives color to it. 



Our hero discovered that African maidens 
divert themselves a good deal like his own fair 
countrywomen. They were given to gossip, 
flirting, and croquet, and two little maidens just 
from school had no difficulty in persuading him 
to join them in a game. 


46 


The fascination of their society made him for- 
get for a time the great mission he was on, and 
he was half disposed to settle down in Africa 
for the remainder of his life, though he found 
the climate a little trying, to his fat ; but an 
incident brought him suddenly to himself and 
spurred him on his way. Two colored dudes 
becoming jealous of his attentions to the maid- 
ens assailed him with darts, and he was com- 
pelled to flee for his life. 



WOBBLE FLEES FOR HIS LIFE. 


47 


CHAPTER X. 

Travelers concur in their reports of strange 
wild beasts, with which Egypt abounds, and be- 



AMONG THE BEASTS. 


fore entering that country. Wobble was careful 
to provide himself with a quantity of fire-works. 


a 


which he judged would be useful in keeping the 
beasts away. They proved entirely efficacious, 
and he passed among them unharmed. 

Passing through the streets of Cairo, which 
are very narrow, like the circumstances in 



HIS CONTEMPT FOR IT. 


which the Arabs live, he encountered an Arab 
leading an ass laden with unripe fruit, for the 
Arab was part proprietor of a cholera mixture. 
N o w, the ass had never seen a bicycle before, 
and, like a good many other asses, must show 
his contempt for it. 

The wheel was considerably damaged by the 


49 


heels of the animal, and it was necessary to take 
it to a blacksmith shop for repairs. The Arab 
played the part of the Good Samaritan, He 
bound up Wobble’s wounds, and mounting him 
on his ass, he conducted him to an inn where 
he could repose. 



Wobble was all right in a few days. A Cairo 
dime museum offered him $ioo a week to show 
himself therein, as a contrast to the mummies, 


50 


but he refused it with scorn, The next coun- 
try he visited was Turkey, and our artist has 
depicted the triumphant manner in which he 
enters Constantinople. 



HE ENTERS CONSTANTINOPLE. 


61 


CHAPTER XL 

Turkish women, as is well known, are very 
closely guarded in their domiciles. They are 
not permitted to go to the post-office by them- 
selves or gather at the depot to see the train 
come in. This results in raising female curios- 
ity to the highest pitch. Whenever Wobble 
came prancing down the street on his wheel the 
windows were filled with curious women. 

The gay and festive Wobble threw kisses to 
them, in spite of scowling Turks, which the 
ladies were not slow in returning. Accustomed 
only to lean men, a fat admirer was a positive 
delight. 

It was a risky thing to do, but our hero pene- 
trated into the Sultan’s harem one day, threw 
himself at the feet of an houri whom he discov- 
ered there, and made a declaration of love. 


Do you indeed love me ?” she murmured. 
I swear it/’ he replied, fervently. 



CURIOUS WOMEN. 


By Allah?” 
No, Bicycle!’ 



THE SULTAN COMES 




64 


Then she sang in low, sweet tones, accom- 
panying herself on a mandolin : 

Beware, young man, don’t be too fresh,” 

For a prudent thought then led her ; 

“ Should the Sultan come you’re in a mesh — 
He’ll make you take a header!” 



DOWNFALL OF THE SULTAN, 


The sultan comes, but Wobble immediately 
squares up to him, American fashion, and oflfers 


55 


to put a head on him in addition to the turban 
that he wears, if he attempts to interfere with 
his diversions. 

The Sultan challenges him to fight it out, 
outside of the city walls, which proposition he 
immediately accepts. The combat was of short 
duration, however, and resulted in the downfall 
of the Sultan, while victorious Wobble mounted 
his wheel and departed for Greece. 


56 


CHAPTER XIL 

There is nothing that Wobble dislikes so 
much as wars and rumors of wars, and as Greece 
was considerably torn up in that way he quickly 



passed into Italy. He was reminded that he 


57 


had crossed the frontier by the Soft tones of the 
hand organ that immediately greeted his ear. 

Arrived at Rome, and viewing the many 
works of ancient sculpture preserved there, he 
was inspired to give tableaux vivants in the 
streets of the Eternal city, and the inhabitants 
were astonished one day by seeing Wobble as 



WOBBLE AS HERCULES. 


Hercules, rushing through the principal avenue 
on his bicycle. Nothing like it had ever been 
seen before, you may be sure, even when Rome 




S8 


was in her palmiest days. A greater surprise 
was in store for them, however, when they saw 
Wobble as Cupid. 



This was more than they could stand, and 
soon our hero was fleeing in the direction of 
the neighboring hills, with all the Roman police 
at his heels. He outstripped the police, but he 
fell in the hands of brigands who led him away 



IN THE HANDS OF BRIGANDS. 


to their cave, where we will leave him to rest 
for the present 


CHAPTER XIII. 


The Italian brigands, who held Wobble cap- 
tive at the conclusion of the last chapter, 
thought to secure a large ransom for his release. 



FOR BULGARIA. 


61 


They advertised their prize in the leading Italian 
journals, but no one came forward offering a 
pisterine for his liberty. In the meantime 
Wobble developed an enormous appetite and 
threatened to produce a famine in the robbers 



the bicyclist and the bull. 


cave, where he was confined. It became neces- 
sary to get rid of him, so they dressed him up 
in military garb and released him, under promise 
that he would start at once for 'Bulgaria and 
fight for Prince Alexander. Wobble had no 


62 


Stomach for fighting, however, and as soon as he 
was out of sight of the brigands he turned off in 
the direction of Spain. He arrived in Madrid 
just as a bull fight was advertised to come off, 
and he determined to enter the lists, which the 
managers allowed him to do. 



TRIUMPH OF WOBBLE. 


A novelty like that had never been seen in 
any arena and it drew immensely. Wobble dis- 
played great courage, and an agility that his 
size and shape did not warrant. The fight re- 


63 


suited in the complete triumph of Wobble, who 
was applauded in the most enthusiastic man- 
ner, as he went careering around the amphi- 
theatre mounted on the back of the maddened 
animal. Old matadors turned green with envy 



and wanted to kill him. At the conclusion of 
the performance when the bull dropped dead 
from wounds and fatigue, the victor made a 
triumphal tour of the arena on his wheel and 
was showered with bouquets. 


64 


1 


CHAPTER XIV. 

To cross the Pyrenees was a work of no little 
difficulty and fatigue, but our hero accomplished 
it finally and entered the territory of la belle 
France. That country being a republic, like 
the land of his nativity, he imagined that he 
breathed it with more freedom than that of the 



VOTRE PASSEPORT, MONSIEUR. 


65 


effete monarchies he had visited, but that was 
probably a delusion. At the frontier an officer 
halted him, exclaiming — “ Votre passport^ mon- 
sieur ^ S il vous plait, 

“ CertainementP responded Wobble, who had 
lived awhile in the French quarter of New 



The passport was found to be all right, and af- 
ter assuring himself that the voyageur had no 
tobacco concealed about his person, tofficier de 
la douane bade him bon voyage and permitted 
him to proceed. 

Passing north along the coast Wobble came 
to a popular watering-place and was tempted 


66 


to sport among the waves with some attractive 
water nymphs that he found there. The French 
are proverbially fond of novelty, and never before 
was there such a novel attraction as was fur- 
nished that day ’^2;^ bord de la mer by this oleagi- 
nous Neptune on wheels. But the exhibition 
ended disastrously. Wobble was overwhelmed 



ROLLED ON A BARREL. 


by a huge wave in the midst of his frolic. He 
was brought to shore in a senseless condition 
and vigorously rolled on a barrel in order to re- 
store him to consciousness. So much water was 
squeezed out of him that the tide was about an 
hour behind hand in running out that day. 


67 


CHAPTER XV. 

Tout Paris is interested in bicycling. Men 
are seen flying along the boulevards, skimming 
down the Champs Elysdes and dashing about in 
the Bois de Boulogne at all hours of the day, 
mounted on their swift and silent steeds. Wob- 



RUN DOWN BY A MOUNTED HUSSAR. 


68 


ble created considerable of a sensation when he 
arrived in the French capital, and crowds fol- 
lowed him about. He was attracted to the 
Place des Invalides by a military review, and 
trespassing too much upon the lines was nearly 
run down by a mounted Hussar. 



A GRAND PROCESSION. 

The dexterity with which he eluded him, 
however, brought a salvo of applause from the 
crowd. Vive VAmiricamr they cried. A 


couple of Waterloo veterans who were sunning 
themselves under a tree, waved their crutches in 
the air, but being immediately doubled up by 
the exertion, were carried back into the Hotel 
des Invalides and put to bed. 

The next day being Sunday, Wobble gave an 
exhibition performance on his bicycle in the 
Jardin d’Acclimatation, in accordance with a 
special request from the managers of that popu- 
lar institution. Thousands of Parisiens and 
Parisiennes flocked there to see it, and they ap- 
plauded avec beaucoup d' enthiisiasme. 

Wobble concluded the exhibition by heading 
a grand procession of the animals of the Zoolog- 
ical department around the ring. Meanwhile he 
caught such expressions as “ Comma il est 
drole I ” “ Voila, Monsieur Gros- Ventre ! ” 

dtr anger va trls — bien sur sa rouey fiest-ce 
pasf Regardez la; Beaut 4 et la Bitey mon 
Dieu I “ HA merique pour toujours I ” 

The next day, while taking an airing on the 
Champs Elys^es, Wobble saw a pony carriage 
passing filled with the children of De Lesseps, 
of Suez and Panama Canal fame. He begged of 
De Lesseps, who accompanied his family on 


70 


horseback, the honor of hauling them from la 
Place de la Concorde to I Arc de Triumphe, 
which the great engineer graciously accorded. 

Wobble drawing the De Lesseps children 
was one of the most pleasing and amusing pro- 



WOBBLE DRAWING THE DE LESSEPS CHILDREN. 


cessions that this famous avenue had seen for 
many a day. Men and women applauded, and 



71 



children left their play to clap their hands. 
Nurse girls smiled upon Wobble, and even the 
Punch and Judy shows stopped their antics as 
the spectacle passed by. This has done more 
to strengthen the friendly bonds existi 


tween France and America than the Bartholdi 
statue ! 

The time finally arrived for our hero to bid 
farewell to France and visit the isles of Queen 
Victoria. In the following picture our artist 


73 


has endeavored to convey an impression of 
Wobble’s extreme misery in crossing the channel 
though one of Sifting’s editors, who has re- 
cently been through the experience, says it is 
impossible for any artist to do the subject jus- 
tice. 


73 


CHAPTER XVI. 

The market for American freaks had been a 
little overworked by the time Wobble reached 
England, consequently he did not create the 
sensation that he had anticipated. They had 



BREAK THE RECORD. 


just had Beecher, and Dixey, and Abbey's 
Dramatic Company, and Bob Ingersoll, to- 
gether with numerous other minor attractions, 




74 


so that the British public was a little weary of 
monstrosities from this side of the water. The 
only thing that appeared to be left for Wobble 
to do was to try and break the record which he 
immediately prepared to do, before setting sail 
for his own, his native land. Wobble here begs 
leave to thank the bicyclists of England for the 
courtesy that was extended to him during his 



brief sojourn among them. One of them intro- 
duced him to the assembly in the most polite 
manner when he came upon the course to at- 
tempt the feat. 

He flies, and the dust flies, too, as he speeds 
around the track at a rate that no fat man ever 
equalled. The public, always an admirer of 


75 


pluck, cheered him lustily, which spurred him on 
to greater efforts. Success crowned his exer- 
tions, as will be seen by the following cut, which 
shows how Wobble broke the record. 



WOBBLE BROKE THE RECORD. 


It is unnecessary to follow our hero in his 
trip across the Atlantic. Enough to say that 
he arrived safely in New York, after success- 
fully accomplishing what Stevens or no one 
else has yet done, the circumnavigation of the 
Globe on a bicycle. He was received by the 
Fat Men’s Club at the steamer’s dock and es- 
corted in triumph to his home, all being su- 
perbly mounted on the “ Star” bicycle. 


In the words of the ever-living tourist who 
writes for the magazines, I am rambling ” in 
Jersey. Jersey will be remembered in history 
on three counts. Jersey lightning is one and 
mosquitoes are the other two. You can enjoy 
the lightning at ten cents a stroke, mosquitoes 
cost nothing. Being a bicyclist, of course I 
wanted to find some in Jersey, and fraternize. 



I remembered that there is said to be a large 
number of Orange Wanderers,” so I went to 
Orange. I was not personally acquainted with 
any of them, so I asked the first man that I saw 
in uniform if he was an “ Orange Wanderer.” I 


77 


guess that he knew what I said, but did not 
understand what I meant, for he made a grab 
for me as he remarked : 

“ If yez don’t kape aff the soid-wak oi’ll pull 
yez in.” 

I started right off, for I thought how could I 
‘‘kape afif” if he pulled mein. After that I 
saw several more men dressed like him, that I 



took to be ‘‘Orange Wanderers;” they were 
dressed alike and seemed to be wandering about. 
They all looked at me as though they would 
like to be friendly, but I did not recognize them 
at all. I have since found out their true char- 


78 


acter and that it costs $5.00 to ride on the side- 
walk in Orange. I left Orange and went out 
into the open country. 

There are many farms in this part of Jersey, 
in fact it is all farm except the ground occupied 
by the houses, and the farmers are as a general 
rule very aesthetic. 

I notice in his accounts that Stevens con- 
verses with the natives where he is travelling 
mostly by signs ; and as the signs along the 
road which I was travelling were very good, I 
gathered a few of them to use when I wanted 
dinner. Pretty soon I felt hungry, so I stood 
my wheel up beside a telegraph pole and went 
up to a house and knocked at the front door. 
A man came and said ‘‘ How de do ?” I made 
a neat bow and gave him a sign, it read, 
'' Springfield i M.” He took it and looked at 
it, turned it over, and looked at the back, 
turned it back and looked it over, looked at me 
a little, and then returned it to me without say- 
ing a word. Supposing that I had not given 
him the right sign, I handed him another, that 
read S. Orange 4 M.” He looked at it with 
great care, but did not seem to catch on, and I 


79 


noticed that his eyes seemed to kind of bulge 
out, but when he handed it back I gave him 
another, this read Hilton 7 M.” He seemed 
* quite moved, as though intelligence was dawn- 
ing on him when I gave him this sign, but he 
looked at me more than at the sign. Just then 
a female voice from somewhere back, asked : 
“ What is it, Aaron ? ” This seemed to fetch 
him too, a little, and I was just expecting him 
to say, Walk in to dinner,” but instead he 
edged around back of the door and called out, 
Maria, run quick out in the backyard and 
bring in the young ones, and lock the back 
door ; it’s a ravin’ ijit in short pants, and he’s 
tore off all the signs along the road from here 
to Hoboken.” As he said this he slammed the 
door shut, and I could hear him knocking the 
bolts across as though he was frightened. I 
did not consider that there was any use of try- 
ing to converse with him by signs any more, so 
I mounted my wheel and rode along. I after- 
wards thought that I might have spoken to him. 
I could, of course, understand what he said, but 
I did not know that he could understand me if 
I should speak. I now almost wish that I had 


80 


tried it. I got my dinner later, however. I 
will tell you how. 

After trying to converse with the native by 
signs, I felt rather disheartened. One is very 
apt to after their first failure in any one line ; but 
what made it more realistic, I was sadly in need 
of a good, square dinner. The next house I 
struck I determined to try the persuasiveness of 
my oratorial powers to their fullest extent ; so, 
standing my Star” carefully beside the fence, 
I walked up to the stoop and knocked at the 
door, but no one answered. I could hear 
people walking around inside, but after repeated 
knocks they failed to materialize. In despera- 
tion I walked around the house to a rear door 
which stood open, through which I could see a 
woman walking around the room at her house- 
hold duties. I spoke to her in my most dulcet 
tone, but she never turned toward me. Think- 
ing it strange I stepped to the threshold of the 
door ; as I did so she happened to see me ; with 
a strange sound, between a cackle and a groan, 
she raised the bowl of soft bread she was mix- 
ing and hurled the whole business over my face 
and head. This came suddenly upon me be- 


81 


cause I was unprepared for it, especially so 
much of it. 

The bread was in the first stages of composi- 
tion, and well backed up by dry flour, that filled 
my eyes and mouth so I could not see, and 
scarcely breathe. I backed out of the door and 
fell down the steps all in a heap, with the dough 
on top. As I went to the bosom of mother 
earth, my feet, while going through the air, 
struck something yielding, that felt very much 
like a person, and brought that to earth with 
me, A keen desire to know the nature of my 
surroundings, made me work desperately to 
clear my eyes, which I succeeded in accomplish- 
ing near enough to see that I ought to be away 
from there. Stretched a few feet away from 
me on the grass, lay a man in the full pride of 
his strength ; his head in a milk-pail, the white 
lacteal fluid was scattered around freely over his 
person and the surrounding dirt. He was 
slowly rising to a sitting posture, and was gasp- 
ing as though several cubic feet of breath had 
been knocked out of him. Farther down the 
yard I could see the woman untying a dog as 
large as a yearling calf. 


I did not stop for them to ask my pardon for 
the way they had treated me. I rushed for the 
road. I reached it after knocking over two bee- 
hives and walking through about twenty feet of 
hot-bed sash. The man I had knocked over 
got on his feet, and he, too, started for the rokd 
the same way I did, as did also the dog. We 
all three seemed to want to get to the road ; I 
knew why I wanted to get there, I wanted to 
get away, but I don’t know why the dog and 
the other man were so inclined. I reached the 
road first, as the other two stopped to see the 
bees which came out as I knocked the hive 
over. I was in a hurry, and my feet did their 
duty on the levers of my wheel. I silently 
glode away. 

In turning a corner I came suddenly face to 
face with a man walking along peaceably with a 
pail in his hand. He no sooner saw me, than, 
giving a whoop, he dropped the pail and fled 
like a deer down the road, across the fields and 
cut out of sight. I was a little surprised, but 
stopped and examined the pail he left behind. 
It contained as respectable a lunch as I ever 
interviewed, and I attended to it without more 


delay. It is strange how this man came out to 
meet me, but he did ; and in the words of the 
famous Stevens, **Thus, in a roundabout way, 
does Providence provide for my wants.” I put 
a quarter in the empty pail and left it by the 
road, and going on a little farther, stopped be- 
neath a shady tree to rest and take a sleep. 

When I stretched my form under that old 
apple tree, I was very weary, and soon forgot 
the world and its cares, but not for long ; soon 
I began to dream 1 was chased and caught by a 
train of cars on the D. L. & W. R. R. (this was 
an awful wild dream), and was knocked off my 
wheel, and landed on my cheeky and went slid- 
ing, away down, down, an awful steep embank- 
ment ; at last I stopped and something took me 
by the hair and commenced to pull me up again ; 
an extra hard pull awoke me, but the sensation 
of having my hair pulled, staid by me ; my head 
was being yanked around so it made me dizzy 
and worried, and every once in a while some- 
thing raked across my face that felt like a flax 
hetchel, of the date 1 798. I was afraid to open 
my eyes, for I did not know what horrible sight 
might greet my vision. I was afraid, but I 


84 : 


knew something had to be done, and that mighty 
sudden, or my head would be pulled off, scalp 
and all, so I made a quick move, rolled over on 
my back, and attempted to spring to my feet, 
but did not get so far up, my head struck some- 
thing hairy, and I was knocked down again, 
and struck in eight or ten places at once, and 
rolled in a heap. I lay quietly where I fell, 
waiting for my end to approach, but as it did 
not come, I took courage and opened my eyes 
a little way. I saw nothing terrible, so I con- 
cluded to try getting up again. I arose with no 
difficulty, other than that occasioned by a mul- 
titude of bruises, and beheld, standing about ten 
yards away, looking quietly at me with its limpid 
eyes, a beautiful calf. As I felt of my head, it 
occurred to me what had been going on, the 
calf had been licking the flour off my face and 
hair, which the polite female, a little way back, 
had thrown over me, and which I had forgotten 
to brush off ; my hair was in a fine condition, 
and the calf had scraped the skin off my face 
with its tongue. I realized the situation and 
slowly began to get angry. I picked up a stick 
and went for that beautiful calf with an over- 





whelming majority, which increased when I dis- 
covered that all that was left of my cap was the 
patent leather visor. After chasing the calf until 



f - its tongue hung out, I took my wheel and trav- 
t i eled onward, sad, bareheaded and alone ; my .. ; 

Y- hair gradually stiffening as the sun dried the wet . 


86 


dough. I was getting pretty sick of this touring 
business, and my last desire was to find a hotel 
and reorganize. I could get no one to direct 
me ; if I met a man, woman or child, they either 
fled before I got within speaking distance, or 
laughed themselves speechless ; but, finally, after 
consulting a boy who was watching cows along 
the road, I managed to get some idea of the 
way to get to Sumup, and I was not destined to 
get there without a calamity. I was in sight of 
the post-office, riding along on the sidewalk, 
and came up behind a man ; I blew my whistle 
and rang my bell, but he did not budge an inch 
from the middle of the sidewalk. I expected 
him to step one side and let me pass. I ex- 
pected until it was too late for me to turn ; my 
little wheel went between his feet, and. he slid 
up the steering rod until he was clear off the 
ground, all but the tips of his toes ; he grasped 
the steering rod as it protruded in front of him, 
and there he was, astride of my wheel, his feet 
resting on the ground just enough to allow him 
to step and prevent his taking a header. I was 
so nervous and excited that I did not think to 
get off the wheel, but instead kept on pedaling. 


which made my involuntary passenger ^‘walk 
Spanish,” and swear. He could not get off, 
neither did he have time to look around and see 
what had caught him ; all he could do was to 
hang on and let his tongue go, which he did 
fluently ; thus the procession moved slowly up 
the main street, I not thinking to stop, and he 
trying to stop the whole business, and every one 
within the sound of his noise, running out to see 
who was being killed in broad daylight. We 
neared a tree, and my passenger threw his arm 
around it ; this checked our mad career, or at 
least his, and threw me off the wheel ; but as I 
went off I butted him square in the small of the 
back, so I was not hurt any, though it did not 
soothe the victim a bit. As soon as he got his 
breath he wanted to fight me, and fight me he 
would, in spite of everything that ever grew ; 
and as I saw no way out of it, I reluctantly 
pulled off my* coat, and the crowd hooted for 
joy. We were just getting into position, ac- 
cording to the rules of the London prize-ring, 
when a policeman appeared and tried to arrest 
the crowd ; they scattered, and in revenge he 
clubbed the bicycle and arrested us both. I 


88 


offered him a cigar and the contents of my tool 
bag, if he would call it square ; but no, I had to 
go before the squire, and in a very dejected con- 
dition, the policeman carrying my coat and 
sternly leading the bicycle. I was brought up 
for my first round with Jersey justice personified 
in Squire Snyder, of Sumup. He was a most 
august person ; the poo-bah of the town, as it 
were, filling, as I learned, the important offices 
of Justice, Assessor, Chief Executive Officer of 
the Health Board, Insurance agent, Auctioneer, 
Editor of the local paper, and proprietor of a 
feed store. He received me in a manner be- 
coming a judge, and demanded, “ Officer, who 
have you here, and what is the charge ?” 

“ Divil a bit, sor, do I know the villian, but 
sure, he was out forninst the post-office wid 
poor Denny Sheriden ashtradle of this boysickle, 
trying to ride him to death, and shplit him in 
two on the dirty masheene.” 

Officer, have you searched the prisoner ?’' 

No, sor, but ril do it to wanst.” 

But I objected, and told them as they had 
my coat in their possession they might search 
that and let me go, so the officer and Justice 


89 


Snyder retired to another room to search the 
coat. They returned in a few minutes, evident- 
ly satisfied, and the judge resumed his seat on 
an old rickety chair (he called it the bench) and 
rapped severely on an old table, and declared 
court open. The officer, myself, and the justice, 
composed the court, jury, judge, audience, pris- 
oner, and officer; we three ran the court. 
When he said the court was open, I supposed, 
of course, I could go, so I thanked him for his 
kindness and was about to walk out when he. 
yelled, “Officer, seize the prisoner before he 
makes his escape,” and I was led back. The 
judge was very indignant at what he considered 
my attempt at escape, he got out his big book 
and asked my name, I told him, but he looked 
at me severely asking : “ An alias, young man, 

why do you give an alias ?” 

“Who gave an alias?” 

“ You did.” 

“ I did not.” 

“Young man, you can’t fool this court, your 
name is not Collins, but Ira Perego.” 

“ Great Scott I” I exclaimed in bewilderment, 
“ how do you know ?” 


90 


‘‘ I saw it on the collar of your coat ; come 
now, you can’t fool me.” 

This was too much, court or no court, I had 
to laugh. He had seen the name of the L. A. 
W., outfitter, on my coat, and thought it was 
my name. The idea of its going into history 
that Ira Perego was arrested in Sumup, was too 
much for me, and I greatly outraged the dignity 
of the court by answering, “ Why, you old fool, 
that’s the name of the man where I bought the 
coat.” 

“ Sir, I will not permit such language. I fine 
you fifty cents,” he roared. I finally got him 
quieted him down, but the trial had all the ap- 
pearances of being a long one, as he adjourned 
court every time a person came in and wanted 
five cents’ worth of hen-feed. 

Finally his eye lighted on the bicycle, and his 
curiosity got the better of him. He began to 
ask questions as to how it worked. I told him 
I could not show him in that little room, so he 
adjourned court, to go outside and see the bi- 
cycle ridden. Here was my chance ; I got on 
the wheel and rode around in a circle for a few 
minutes, much to his delight. I told him it was 
chilly riding, would he please bring me my coat. 


91 


The officer brought it out, and I put it on. I 
rode around a few minutes more, and he asked 
me how fast I could ride. I asked him would 
he like to see some fast riding. He said he 
certainly would. There was a long, level stretch 
of smooth macadam before me. It looked as 
though good time could be made on it. I said, 
'‘Now you stand here and watch me close.” 
He said '^all right,” and I headed the wheel 
down the road and let her go. I did not stop 
to turn around, I kept straight ahead. I heard 
a good deal of shouting but as I guessed it was 
applause by the audience, I did not look around, 
but pressed the levers down faster. As far as I 
know, the old judge and the policeman stand 
there in the road yet, and the court is still ad- 
journed. 

I took an air line for New York, at Newark, 
I met Captain Williams who took me where I 
washed the dough out of my hair, and borrow a 
cap. I got Captain Williams to keep the calves 
away from me until I got to Jersey City ; there 
I bade the captain an affectionate farewell, as I 
felt perfectly safe once more. I heard shortly 
afterward that it was several days before the 
captain was seen again, and that there was sus- 


picions that I had made away with him, but he 
was discovered one night in Waldman’s Opera 
House, and the mystery cleared up. 



I MET CAPTAIN WILLIAMS.” 


There is considerable fun lying around loose 
in Jersey just waiting for the cycler to come and 
take it in. 





93 



A LECTURE. 

Ladies and Gentlemen : — The bycyclist is 
not, as you may suppose, a creature of purely 
modern times. Alexander the Great, we are 
told by historians, when in one of his battles in 
charge of his troops '' wheeled furiously,” so we 



u 


may take it that Aleck, was nicknamed the 
Great because he was a great spirter, and he no 
doubt had some large one and two-mile cham- 
pionship medals clinking over the pericardium 
of his nickel-plated vest which he wore during 
the campaigns in his district. 

Of late years, however, the crop of bicyclists 
has largely increased, and now the supply and 
demand are about equal, and you stand a fair 
chance of being run down by one anywhere ex- 
cept up a tree. 

They have pleasures that we know not of, and 
enjoy, or think they enjoy, — which answers just 
as well — as the genuine article, many things 
that to the non-combatant whom they chase off 
the sidewalk, seem strange. For instance a 
gentle and tender youth will climb on a bicycle 
and ride up a hill of forty-five degrees to the 
horizon and boast of it, yet if his mother asks 
him to bring a hod of coal up out of the cellar 
he will demur, or if she asks him to hang out 
the week’s washing he will almost positively 
refuse. 

Of all bicyclists the ‘"scorcher” is most to be 
dreaded. He’s hot, He generally rides alone, 


u 


and it is then that he does the wonderful things 
that he tells about with so much modesty, in 
the shape of hill-climbing, running away from 
fast horses, riding long distances with one leg, 
awful headers, and so forth. The scorcher is to 
bicyclists what the bunco man is to ordinary 
mortals ; his value is according to the confi- 
dence you put in him, and when you think 
you’re got him, you’re left. 

Bicycling has brought two men into world 
wide fame — T. Wobbles, Esq., and Mr. T. 
Stevens. The notable events in the career of 
Wobbles, Esq., were chronicled as fast as they 
happened, in Texas Siftings. He has now 
retired his wheel and himself. Mr. T. Stevens 
probably did more hard work than Mr. T. 
Wobbles, but he is now getting his reward by 
being appointed referee at bicycle races, where 
he sits in the judges’ stand and lets his cigar 
ashes fall on the plug hats of those beneath him. 

Kind friends, gentlemen, most particularly, 
if a desire to jpin the army of bicyclists should 
ever possess you, make all due preparations 
before you join ; make all the preparations 
usually made by condemned persons, and place 


96 


yourself in ready communication with the am- 
bulance corps after bribing the coroner not to 
sit long or heavy on the remains. 

Procure a bicycle, or if possible, borrow one 
of a friend. If you have a strong pull with a 
man who owns a bicycle you may be able to bor- 
row one ; but if he says that he is happy to lend it, 
put him down at once as a liar, for the chances 
are that he is thinking how he can have you 
disposed of before you can put your paws on 
his beloved wheel ; but, overcoming all his 
machinations against you, you get the wheel. 
Take it away somewhere by yourself ; of course 
refuse all offers of assistance, because you know 
all about it. 

Go where the road is hard and smooth, the 
smoother and harder the better, and if you can 
go to the top of a hill, better yet. Look care- 
fully along the piece of gas-pipe that holds the 
wheel together ; about eight inches above the 
little wheel you will see a piece of iron as large 
as your thumb nail projecting from the side ; 
that is the step. Seize the handles as tight as 
you can; don’t let any bicycle master you ; put 


91 

the side of your left foot on the step and hop 
along on the other foot just to try it. 

Hop, hop. Your foot slips off the step and 
your trousers leg has caught on and torn to the 
knee, but don’t let a little thing like that bother 
you ; try again. Pin up your trousers leg and 
go back to the top of the hill. The wheel is 
getting a little skittish, the blanked thing 
seems half alive ! Put your foot on the step 
again. Now for it ! Hop, hop, hop ; faster, 
faster, faster! Now jump for the saddle! 
Who-o-o-o-p 1 — ! — ! 

If you are not insensible, get up at once and 
look around to see who caught hold of the 
wheel and threw you off. Of course the son- 
of-a-gun is hiding. Go and pick up the wheel 
— two or three wires broken out of the big 
wheel will be all the damage that your unprac- 
tised eye will detect — brush the dust off your- 
self, and if your coat is split up the back take it 
off ; it will be in the way of further operations. 
Yank the bicycle around some. Spit on both 
hands ; go back to the top of the hill and com- 
mence over again. Put your foot on the step 
carefully and with deliberation. This time hop 


98 

for all you’re worth ! then, jump for the saddle ! 
You strike it fair! The wheel hums! This is 
ecstasy — 

The light-hearted boy drives the cows through 
the corn. The gentle swine squeal lazily in the 
distant farm-yard, and all around are making 
preparations for repose. Beside the road in the 
gathering twilight lies a shadow by a broken 
wheel. Your life insurance is payable. Boo- 
hoo ! 


99 


AWAYWEGO. 

A BICYCLING ROMANCE. 

It was a balmy afternoon in May ; I place it 
in May, not that there are no balmy afternoons 
in any other month, but we start this story in 
May so that the author will have time to com- 
plete it before he has to take his customary mi- 
gration south, where he walks every fall to save 
the expense of an overcoat. On this balmy 
afternoon a sweet voice came floating over the 
trim-cut hedge, — with detail as to where the 
hedge was or why it was trim-cut, we will not 
detain the reader, but it was, — and with a few 
clear notes more dulcet than the rest the form 
of Awaywego shot round the end of the hedge 
mounted on her father’s favorite tricycle. She 
was a blooming picture of loveliness every in- 
dividual freckle on her alabaster forehead and 
cheeks showed up life-size, as big as a dime ; her 


/ 


hair, cut a la Rose Elizabeth, was that delicate 
brick-tint auburn, called red, which with her gor- 
geous eyes and large, roomy nose, her full- 
sized mouth, and featherless ears, made the 
landscape of a chromo to delight the heart of a 
Prang, and make the fortunes of innumerable 
Jew peddlers. Minute details as to the appear- 
ance of this fair creature are given because she 
will enter into the story further on, and I wish 
her to be recognized when she enters. Away- 
wego’s spirit seemed as free from care as a bird, 
this was apparent from the way she rattled the 
old '' trike” over the stones and gutters that lay 
across her path to the Sylvan Grove whither she 
was wending her way ; and as she continued her 
wend, her song kept trilling out on the ambient 
air like the dinner-gong of a summer boarding- 
house ringing for a fire alarm. And why should 
she not sing ? She did not care for the neigh- 
bors, and she had a tryst to keep at the Sylvan 
Grove. She knew full well who awaited her 
coming; who walked impatiently, with bated 
(with whiskey) breath, to and fro in this same 
grove to keep the mosquitos off, who but 
Michaelcar. The thought lent weight to her 


101 


already heavy feet, and her fathers favorite tri- 
cycle bounded away as though it had ball bear- 
ings. There is a keen sense of enjoyment in 
anticipation, and as Awayvvego saw the dim 
outlines of the Sylvan Grove loom up in the 
distance, her feet pressed the pedals with a con- 
stantly decreasing pressure as though she would 
prolong the anticipation of her meeting with the 
matchless Michaelcar; but when she saw his 
manly form outlined against the darker shadows 
of a giant huckleberry-bush, and as he hailed 
her with their sign of mutual recognition which 
frequent repetition had made dear to her mem- 
ory, she hurried to his side and bounding from 
the saddle with the swift undulating motion of 
a bull-dog after a pet cat, flung herself upon the 
front of his waistcoat. 

“ Vare you vos alretty. I tinks,” said Mich- 
aelcar, as he squeezed her head up where his 
shirt bosom should have been but where it was 
not, and as his brawny arm was tight across her 
mouth Awaywego preserved an ecstatic silence. 

They stood wrapped in silence and each other s 
arms while the sun kept sloping to get behind 
the hills. At length Michaelcar kicked himself 


im 


from her embrace; and chancing to raise his 
eyes, exclaimed: “Mine gracious, who vos dot 
coming , 

Awaywego looked through the gathering 
gloom in the direction in which her lover’s face 
was turned, and beheld a towering form noise- 
lessly approaching in the distance astride the 
pheriphy of a swift revolving wheel, and turning 
to allay the fears of Michaelcar, replied that it 
was some racer on a solitary scorch ; then they 
withdrew behind the huckleberry bush to await 
his passing by. As the coming man neared the 
spot whereon they stood concealed, his strokes 
were slower, and when opposite them he sprang 
from his wheel, drawing from its concealment 
up his sleeve, a sand bag of vast and healthy 
proportions. Then, quickly as lightning skins 
the astonished sheep beneath the tree which it 
has struck, so did the impending crisis dawn 
upon the pair behind the bush. It was no stran- 
ger, but Awaywego’s sire. He had followed 
the track of the wheel and suspecting that some- 
thing was in the wind had hurried on to get 
there before the seance closed. He had seen 
them. His voice was coarse with passion as he 


103 


cried, “ Cam oot o’ that ye huzzy, befure I 
broke yer back wid me club.” 

Awayvvego stepped out bristling with fear, 
for well she knew the prowess of that club. 

“Where is the spalpeen what me eyes beheld 
while I was up forninst the hill ?” 

' The girl, in whom the woman instinct was 
supreme — to talk — replied, “ I am alone, and 
stopped to rest,” 

She thought to hold her father’s attention 
even to drawing down upon herself the club of 
sand, so that her lover could in safety sneak 
away ; but no such luck. While creeping off to 
safety, Michaelcar put his hand in an ant-hill 
and the ants were home ; from the multitude it 
was a great convention they were holding, .and 
the way the prominent members of the party 
went for Michaelcar, forced him to yell. The 
father of Awaywego sprang upon him at once, 
so did the club, and dragging the shuddering 
victim from the gloom of the forest to where 
the fading twilight diffused a mellow lustre, 
the club was raised to strike a stinging blow ; 
hut it never fell. When the old man’s eye took 
in the visage of his prisoner, a sudden emotion 


104 : 


seemed to fill his breast to repletion, and with 
arms uplifted, and with hair on end he screamed, 
“ Houly mither av Mozes, a Doochmon T 
As the last shrill cadence of the old man's 
voice died on the air a silence commenced that 
was oppressive, till he broke it again, Home 
wid yez, yer good-for-nothin’ troll 1 its yer case 
ril tend to whin I get yer home !" Then turn- 
ing to Michaelcar, and swinging his terrible 
weapon high above his head, exclaiming, Clar 
ootye Dooch hoodlum, befure oi crack yer hid.” 
And swinging all his strength in one terrifie 
blow, struck out at Michaelcar, but he was not 
there ; he had gone. The old man wildly beat 
the air for a moment, then fetched the earth 
with one grand tumble, and rolled beneath the 
huckleberry bush, lying there stark and still. 

The sun had gone down, the stars came 
twinkling peacefully o'er the scene ; the rattle 
of Awaywego’s wheel died away in the distance. 
Michaelcar had disappeared as though the earth 
had eaten him. The old man lay where he had 
fallen ; in coming down his hand had struck a 
bottle hidden by Michaelcar, and knowing by its 
smell what it contained, had drawn it to his lips. 


105 


Next morning they found him there, his wheel 
beside a stump and he beneath the bush, still 
paralyzed. 

The scenes just described are still fresh in the 
mind of Awaywego as we see her again seated 
pensively on the dog-house ornamenting the 
spacious lawn of her father s princely mansion, 
the surroundings of which betoken a gentleman 
and a politician of the Erin school. As she sat 
toying with the dog-chain, her father approached 
leading his light roadster by the handle-bar. 

Phat air ye sittin’ there mopin’ loik a fule 
fur? And hark ye me leddy, if I ketch ye 
skylarkin wid a dirty baste of a Doochmon agin’ 
sure oi’l mop the entoire country wid yer hales.” 

Oh, father,” cried the maiden, '' I cannot give 
him up. He’s a coachman ; and beside, he has 
ridden up Eagle Rock Hill on his wheel.” 

“ Phat’s that to me,” cried the patriot. “ Ye’ll 
do as I say or become a carpse, and the Dooch- 
mon ’1 be reddy fur a wake the nixt toime me 
two eyes sets on him.” 

“ Oh, father, spare him,” cried the maiden. 

“ Bet yer dollar oi’l bate him.” 

“Father,” cried the noble girl, “tell me one 




106 


thing ; answer me one question, and I’ll do as 
you say? I’ll give Michaelcar the bounce.” 

“ Phat is it ye want to know ?” asked the old 
man. 

‘‘ Will you tell me what I ask ?” demanded the 
giddy girl. 

“ Wid all me heart, me darlint,” replied he, as 
he gathered his daughter to his breast. “ Spit 
out yer conundrum.” 

The girl placed her hand confidingly on his 
arm, and asked in a husky voice, “Tell me, 
when will bicyclers stop riding on -the side- 
walk ?” 

The old man recoiled as though he had been 
hit with a rock. “Go, Jave me,” he hooted, 
“ its asier to kill the Doochmon than give that 
away.” And he mounted his wheel with deter- 
mination and rode from her sight. 

Awaywego went at her accustomed duties 
with a heavy heart ; and it was plain to see as she 
decorated a wash-tub with foamy suds, that her 
heart was far away. Once she thought that in 
the distance she saw the form of Michaelcar and 
hope breathe joy into her bosom, but it turned 
out to be a billy-goat chased by a dog. Again 




107 


when the shadows grew long in the east Away- 
wego mounted her father’s “ trike ” — the old 
gentleman had forgotten to lock it — and once 
again came ’round the hedge, but this time in si- 
lence lest she arouse the old man who was stay- 
ing home from a meeting of the club to club her 
if she tried any artful dodging. She wandered 
aimlessly trying to find solace in banging the 
wheel about. But solace came to her not. Sud- 
denly as she was coasting a hill “ brake off” she 
heard a wheezy rattle behind her like a wind- 
broken horse as the end of his days draw nigh, 
and Michaelcar the coachman, the noble the last- 
imagined, dashed past her shouting for her to fol- 
low. This she was all too glad to do, and soon 
joined him in the valley. At last when they 
got breath, Michaelcar remarked : “ Dot veel 
beats der cake, vy don’t yer fadder puy some 
veels vat vos not fall ter peces. Py gracious, I 
geefs no more as a tollar for dot verlosipeed.” 

His chaffing tone and aspersion of her father’s 
wheel, nettled Awaywego’s yearning soul, and 
she replied petulantly : “ This wheel is dear to my 
father, sir, and I’ll not listen to your speaking ill 
of it, Michaelcar, how’s your head ?” At this 




108 

he scowled and diving deep within the pocket 
of his ample coat, brought fourth a deadly 
chunk of Schwitzer kase, rema-rking as he drew, 
Dot old feller fools mit me ter much alretty. 
He better look owit a leetle, py und py he sees 
sometings fall mit his kopfe,” 

Touch but one hair of that old man’s head, 
you greasy bloke, and I’ll make you sad for one 
long day. Remember he’s my father.” Michael- 
car scowled a scowl of utter darkness, and ex- 
claimed, “You dinks I vas a fool, hey, I shoost 
git me some udder girls vat vos no Irisher, und 
vot likes kraut.” 

“Your love for me is gone, replied Away- 
wego ; “ leave me — scat ?” and, picking up a stone 
laid it beside his head to make him dizzy. With- 
out a word, seeing her reaching for another rock, 
he sprang upon his wheel and glode from reach. 
She paused a moment as she saw him go, and 
moved as if to call him back, and then, as 
though the fulness of her grief had burst upon 
her, she cried, “ He’s gone ! Hels lost ! Gone, 
gone into the Orange riding district without a 
whistle, and fell to firing stones in frenzy at a 
cow. , Four strong men came to save the cow, 


and bound her arms and tied her apron tight 
across her mouth ; tenderly they strapped her to 
a shutter and carried her to her 'father’s roof, 
where tender care reclaimed her to the world 
again. Of Michaelcar she never saw the face 
again, the effete minions of the Orange law 
gathered him in. Once in a while she may be 
seen pegging away on her wheel and wondering 
passers question who the female Samson is ; but 
from her looks no one would ever guess that 
once she was the loved one of a Dutch cycler. 


110 


COLLINS AS A REFEREE. 


It was a rainy afternoon. Several young 
men were gathered in the Orange branch of 
Smith &. Co.’s Bicycle Emporium, Orange 
Telephone 134, Newark Telephone 673. True 
to the tradition that where two or three are 
gathered together, and it is likely that there 
will be a row, there will I be in the midst of 
it, I was there. It was the eve of a great 
occasion. On the morrow, as the sun sank 
behind the western hill, the Champion of the 
Occident and the Champion of the Orient were 
to bisect themselves with a bicycle, as far as 
their legs would allow, and race up the hill. 

In an evil moment, with a kindly smile, a 
champion from Boston, who happened to be 
present, suggested that I act as referee in the 
contest. The sheep before the shearers is 
dumb ; but I went the sheep one better, — I 
was a dumb fool, — I accepted the proffered 
honor. ' 


Ill 


The next day, after the sun had put in full 
time and was beginning to set, I, with numer- 
ous bicyclists, hied me to the scene of contest. 
A bicycle race reminds me of a parade by the 
Caledonian Club. The display of bare legs is 
about equal — if anything a little more so, in 
favor of the bicyclists. It is a bare-legged 
shame the way that some of them don’t dress. 
Their costume is very ddcolleU about the lower 
extremities. But to return to the race. There 
was a slight hitch in the proceedings. The 
Champion of the Orient was slow in putting in 
an appearance, and, as he was going to play an 
important part in the affair, it was quite neces- 
sary for him to be there. The crowd waited a 
while, and then began to growl, and while they 
were growling they did some more 'waiting. In 
the absence of any one else to blame, they jawed 
at the referee. I knew it all the time. I just 
got them out there for nothing. They did not 
believe that there was going to be a hill-climb- 
ing contest anyway, it was just a dodge of mine. 
Then I began to see wherein bicycling devel- 
oped men. It made them magnificent kickers. 
They kicked at everything — at the race, the 


in 


place, the road, the time, the hill, the scenery, 
but most at me. They seemed to hold me per- 
sonally responsible for their very existence. Of 
course it was my fault that the other man failed 
to appear. I had plugged his wheel with emery 
or drugged his ginger ale. Why don’t I do 
something ? I was referee, why didn’t I trot out 
the performance. All this time the wait was 
going on just the same. Goaded to despera- 
tion I started off to hunt up the delinquent, 
and with reckless abandon stopped at the first 
hotel I came to and drank three glasses of gin- 
ger ale, one right after the other. Some pres- 
ent wheelmen were appalled at the extent of 
my debauch, and the report rapidly spread that 
the referee had taken to drink. I returned to 
the scene of the contest reckless as to the con- 
sequence. The Champion of the Orient was 
still missing. All at once there is a stir. 
Away down the road in the dim horizon 
appears a fleck of dust. This creates a new 
sensation and the referee is forgotten. The 
dust comes nearer, and at last part of a bicycle- 
wheel with a pair of legs, one on each side, 
kicking up and down, can be seen through the 


113 


cloud. It was a wheelman, covered with sweat 
and foam, his steaming flanks attesting to the 
pace at which he had ridden. Kind hands led 
the wheelman away, and walked him up and 
down beneath the shady trees, while dozens 
gathered eagerly around his wheel to see what 
make it was. The backbone was shaken, the 
spokes was ‘‘ twanged,” the pedals spun around. 
Their curiosity satisfied, their attention was 
turned to the noble wheelman who could ride 
such a machine. He had partly regained his 
breath, and made the startling statement that 
the Champion of the Orient in riding to the 
place of contest had met with an accident. 
His handle had come off and he had taken a 
header that had bent his forks ; he was also in- 
jured himself. Here was a chance to get in 
some more work on the referee. “What would 
he do now ?” “ Hey ?” I was led off by the 

friends of the Champion of the Orient, and 
they parleyed with me, then the friends of 
the Champion of the Occident pulled me out 
of the bushes and parleyed some more, then 
the reporters for the bicycle papers took their 
little whack. When they had all had a chance 


114 




I timidly suggested that the race be off until the 
champions could meet and talk it over. What 
shape the discussion on this would have taken 
I know not, as darkness came on and the disap- 
pointed athletes went home. 

I fondly pressed to my breast the idea that 
this was the last of it. There’s where I re- 
mained again. I was only introduced to part 
second. A blizzard of telegrams and let- 
ters came on without parallel in my latitude. 
I will give a few choice extracts from them, 
not as an evidence of good faith, but for pub- 
lication. 

*'That contest should go to the western 
man.” 

That race must be run again.” 

'‘The eastern man should have that race.” 

“You are an idiot if you don’t declare that 
race off.” 

“If you don’t declare that race to the west- 
ern man, I will come and settle with you in 
person.” 

“ I’ve got money on the eastern man. There’s 
money in it for you if he gets it.” 

“You want to decide this race to the western 


115 


man. If you don’t, vve boys will be down on 


you. Your brother-in-L.A.W.” 





SOME OF THE KICKERS. 

I- The telegrams came ''collect,” and the letters 

L - 

i;. asked for immediate answers, but only one out 


116 


of ten inclosed stamp for answer. The nine 
without a stamp I filed in the waste-basket, and 
the tenth one that inclosed a stamp I put on 
top of them. 

After considerable back talk both champions 
rode up the hill, and the Champion of the 
Orient was beaten. Then again it was my 
fault, because the race was delayed so long that 
he was out of condition ; and those who lost on 
him began to drop in to borrow money to pay 
their debts. To save my rapidly-failing health, 
I hired a stout, well-proportioned Englishman 
to assume my name and a portion of my respon- 
sibilities. Now, when a man comes in, and 
inquires in a blood-or-bust tone of voice, 
'‘Where’s Collins?” I just point to the Eng- 
lishman, and revel in delight as I watch the 
sickly smile come to his countenance, as he 
takes in the proportions of the Englishman, 
and hesitatingly says to him, “ I just called in 
to — to — to congratulate you on — on the effi- 
cient manner in which you handled the hill- 
climbing contest.” 


117 


BY A WHEEL’S LENGTH. 

Had you stood in the main street of Waydon, 
a little Massachusetts town, but a short distance 
from the Connecticut line, one afternoon in July, 
last year, as the hot sultry day was drawing to a 
close, you would have seen a solitary wheelman 
pedaling rather wearily up the street and gazing 
earnestly at each house as he passed, as though 
looking for some place or some one. He was 
bountifully covered with dust, and as he had been 
perspiring profusely his face was a dark brown. 
His appearance betokened a long journey. He 
finally approached a man who was standing on the 
street-corner, and asked, with a sigh of relief, as he 
flung himself from the saddle, ‘‘ Sir, can you tell 
me where the Purcell’s live?” “Yes, mister,” 
replied the man; “you see that awkward little 
house painted all up in city style. Queer Am, I 
believe they call it, just by the bend in the road ? 
Well that’s the spot. Come far?” “Yes, I 
came from Winsted, over in Connecticut, and 


118 


with riding and walking I am pretty well used 
up.” And after thanking the man for his direc- 
tions, he swung on his wheel again and rode on 
down the street. 

“Who was that feller, Job?,” asked one of the 
corner crowd, of the man who had been talking 
to the stranger. “ How should I know,” replied 
the individual addressed as Job, “ he only asked 
me where the Purcell’s lived, and seemed mighty 
anxious to get there. Said he came from 
Winsted.” 

“ I wonder who he can be,” again ventured 
the first speaker. “ The Purcell’s never had any 
company since they have been here, and always 
kept to themselves as though they was too good 
for this climate, and as for that Purcell gal, she 
always acts to me as though she was too rich for 
this kind of ground.” 

“ We all understand why you talk that way,” 
replied Job. “It has been said that once she 
asked you if you knew how to open a gate, and 
you big fool said yes. When she asked you to 
try the front one. Yes, Bob Harrington, you 
soon found that the Purcell’s had no use for you.” 
With this say. Job walked away, but^he could not 


119 


help hearing the angry remark Bob sent after 
him as his shaft struck home. 

But we will follow the weary wheelman as he 
dismounts at the front gate of the cottage Job 
had designated as “ Queer Am.” He had hardly 
trundled his wheel half the distance between the 
gate and the porch before a voice rung out, 
'' Oh, mamma, here’s brother Harry,” and a 
young girl sped down the walk to meet him as 
though her feet had wings, and she welcomed him 
in true sisterly fashion. At the door of their 
cottage they were met by a sweet-looking, elderly 
lady, who fondly embraced the young man and 
called him son. Well, mother, you have things 
pretty comfortable here,” remarked the young 
man, as he looked around and took in the neat 
apartments. “ How do you like Waydon and 
its people ? But my, what a distance from the 
depot, and what a road:; I don’t think I have 
ever ridden fifteen miles that tired me so.” I 
like its climate, and as for the people, I do not 
know much about them. We have kept pretty 
close and they have not troubled us any, except an 
admirer of Gracie’s” — with a teazing glance at her 
pretty daughter — ‘‘he was rather importunate, 






120 


but Gracie got rid of him in some way.” replied 
the mother. “ Yes,” spoke up the young lady, 
“ he had never seen me but four or five times, 
and hardly spoken to me, when one evening 
coming from church, he asked me to marry him, 
telling me that his father owned the chair factory, 
and would build him a new house, and a lot 
more, but I politely declined the honor, and ever 
since that whenever he meets me he scowls in an 
awful manner,” ‘‘ Who was he, anyway, asked 
Harry. '‘ His name was Bob Harrington.” 

Why did you not send us word you were com- 
ing home, and why did you not come in the 
stage instead of riding on your wheel ? ” asked 
Mrs. Purcell. “ I will tell you, mother, I was 
and am in a great hurry. I must get back to 
the city, Saturday. I come to tell you that 
Uncle Watson is dead.” 

This announcement of his errand was greeted 
with exclamations of surprise and sorrow by his 
mother and sister; but to understand it more 
fully the reader must know a little of the condi- 
tions under which we find our friends. 

Mrs. Purcell was a widow with the two chil- 
dren, Harry and Gracie. Harry was her sole 


\ ■ 



means of support since his father died, a bank- 
rupt some five years before. Gracie was a beau- 
tiful, girl, just merging into glorious womanhood. 
Mr. Purcell’s brother Watson, had been his part- 
ner in business, and when he died, some people 
said that Watson Purcell was careful that the 
affairs should be bankrupt, at any rate the widow 
and children got nothing from the estate. But 
before his brother had been in his grave six 
months, Watson Purcell had asked the widow to 
marry him, and meeting with a refusal, he had 
turned to taking revenge by petty annoyances, 
until the poor woman’s life became a burden, 
and to get away from him, she had left the city 
and taken up her abode in this little country vil- 
lage in Massachusetts. 

It was with a feeling of sadness not unmixed 
with relief, that the Widow Purcell heard of the 
the death of her brother-in-law, and she asked 
herself over and over again what now was to be- 
come of his daughter, now an orphan without a 
relative. She had always had a great aversion 
for Watson, but she should not on that account 
dislike his orphan daughter. She was poor her- 
self, and could ill-afford another in the family, 


122 


but she considered that she ought to offer a home 
to the child. Out of her father’s estate there 
could not enough be found to pay the creditors. 

After a council with her children, it was de- 
cided to offer the orphan a home at Waydon, 
and Harry was intrusted with a message of invi- 
tation to her when he returned to the city. Of 
their cousin, Harry and Grade knew but little, 
having never met her since their father died. In 
the intermediate time she had been to a boarding 
school in Pennsylvania, where she had graduated, 
and since her graduation had travelled consider- 
ably. 

Harry ddivered his message and in due time 
a reply came to Mrs. Purcell, thanking her with ‘ 
all the ardor of the orphan’s heart, and accepting 
the invitation. Harry was to meet her at New 
York, and take her to Waydon, It could be 
said of Harry that he was of course susceptible 
to feminine charms, but he was totally unpre- 
pared for the vision of loveliness that he beheld 
when he greeted his cousin. He remembered 
her only as a rather puny, awkward girl, and was 
in no way prepared to see a handsome, young 



i' 


' THEY TOOK MANY PLEASANT WALKS TOGETHER. 


V 


124 


lady. The journey up the N anyatuck V alley was 
a very pleasant one. 

There was the usual bustle at Waydon when 
the stage arrived. The usual crowd stood around 
watching and commenting upon the arrivals. 
Grade was there awaiting the travellers and gave 
her cousin a hearty welcome. 

Hattie Purcell soon won her way to the hearts 
of those around her, and somehow after her ar- 
rival Harry found it more convenient to leave 
business than previously. His first visit to Way- 
don was the evening we saw him wheel wearily 
up the main street, his mother had lived there 
some months, but now he managed to find his 
way home through the hills, almost every Satur- 
day night. Of course his excuse was to see 
mother,” but in truth it was as much to see 
Hattie, though he would have stoutly denied it. 

Nevertheless they took many pleasant walks 
together over the old Berkshire Hills, and 
through the shady chestnut groves. 

But there was another who had noticed from 
the evening of her arrival in town that Hattie 
was fair to look upon, and that was Bob Har- 
rington. Bob was a country bully in every sense 


of the word. Being the son of the wealthy man 
of the town he had always had his way, and 
everyone had looked upon him as a sort of pro- 
digy. He never could forgive Grace Purcell for 
her refusal to become the mistress of his house 
and heart. But when he saw Hattie her looks 
pleased him and he determined to try his luck at 
wooing again, not that he was capable of so holy 
and pure a passion as true love, but from a de- 
sire to possess whatever pleased him. Knowing 
his attempt at love-making with her cousin, Hat- 
tie met his advances very coldly, but nothing 
daunted, one evening he chanced to meet her 
walking from the post-office, and proposed. 
Hattie laughed at him ; this made him furious, 
and he swore roundly that he would be revenged 
on the whole family. But at the time nothing 
was thought of it, and as Bob hastily left town 
the whole affair soon dropped from the memory 
of the Purcells. 

It was with favor that Mrs. Purcell saw the 
growing attachment between her son and Hattie, 
so that when Harry told her that he had asked 
Hattie to be his wife, and that she had accepted 
him, she told him that she was well pleased. 


126 


Everything welit merry as the wedding bells 
which were to ring. The time for the wedding 
was rapidly approaching, and the girls had 
planned a trip to New York for the final fixings. 
Harry came up from the city to stay with his 
mother while they were gone. In the evening 
after they had started for the depot at Winsted, 
which was fifteen miles distant, Job Andrews, 
the man of whom he inquired his way on the oc- 
casion of his first visit to Waydon, and who had 
since become his firm friend, came to him very 
excited and told him that he had just overheard 
a couple of men talking of a plan which was to 
be put into execution that night to rob the seven 
o’clock express from Winsted. It appeared that 
these men had been imported to join the robbers 
and had refused to do so, and not knowing that 
anyone was near them were talking about the 
plans which had been laid before thern ; a rail 
was to be removed from the track in a deep ra- 
vine, about five miles from Unionville. A mem- 
ber of the gang was to stop the train with a red 
lantern and call the attention of the engineer and 
trainmen to the rail, while their attention was 
thus called away the gang of robbers who were 


127 


led by Bob Harrington were to rush upon the 
express car and seize the shipment of specie 
which was to be sent to New York, by the 
Hurlburt bank, and also Harrington knew that 
the girls were to be on the train and some of the 
men were detailed to rush in and drag them from 
the train. Harry’s cheek paled as the details of 
the affair were laid before him. It was just 
quarter past six, at seven o’clock the train started, 
Harry was frantic, no horse alive could coyer the 
distance in that time, there was no way to get 
word. There was only one chance, could he 
make it on his wheel, he would try, and scarce 
ten seconds from the time his resolve was taken 
he was on his Star,” pressing the levers as 
never before, up hill and down hill, straining 
every nerve ; never did the way seem so long, but 
well he knew that never before did his wheel go 
over the ground at that rate. Once the little 
wheel struck a rut and threw him, but he did not 
mind the bruises only being impatient at the de- 
lay. He reached the outskirts of Winsted, 
dashed past the clock shop and down Main 
street ; he could hear the escaping steam from 


the engine, but he had a mile yet to go ; he 
fairly raised from the saddle, on he rushed, he 
flew over the bridge by the tin shop as the en- 
gine bell began to ring preparatory to starting ; 
alas, he was too late. As he rushed up to the 
platform the train was under way fifty yards off ; 
but no, he dashed upon the track and after the 
receding train, exerting all his failing strength 
by tremendous effort he lessoned the distance 
between it and himself, finally reaching it and 
leaning over he grasped the rail of the car plat- 
form, raised himself from his wheel, and not an 
instant too soon, for as he drew himself on the 
platform the train went thundering over a bridge 
and his faithful wheel went tumbling over the 
rocks into the stream below ; he was saved by a 
wheel’s length. 

He soon made his mission known to the train- 
men and when they reached the cut the would- 
be train agents were received in a manner they 
had not counted on. They were taken in cus- 
tody for safe-keeping. The balance of the jour- 
ney was traveled without incident ; Harry ac- 
companying his sister and Hattie to New York. 


The wedding came off at the time appointed. 
Harry will never forget his ride, and always 
thinks with a shudder of that instant when he 
was but a wheel’s length from a horrible death. 


AN INDIAN ’CYCLER. 


In the '"Wild and Wooly West.” 

Where the Indian and the Scout 
Chase each other ’round about, 

And the cow-boy always sleeps beside his 
gun : 

Once a wheelman rode away, 

In the twilight dim and gray. 

And an Indian had his ringlets, 

Ere the rising of the sun. 

Red Mug Pete, a daring puncher. 

Who was quite a holy terror. 

Of the wide and broad p’rerer, 

Saw an Indian standing lonely on the plain, 
Said, without a thought of dread, 

I will pump him full of lead. 

For an Indian that’s been doctored, 
Never lifts a scalp again. 


1 $: 


With a shout of wild derision, 

Sprang the savage on a wheel, 

Made of best imported steel, 

Pedaled* swift away while Peter stared and 
swore. 

When at camp the tale he told, 

He was asked his jaw to hold, 

Then they filled him full of whiskey 
And then laid him on the floor. 




NED’S TOUR. 


The boys were gathered around the stove in 
the club-room, telling of races won and lost, of 
tours, and daring rides. Suddenly some one 
turned to Ned May, and exclaimed^ “ Ned, you 
took a long tour a couple of summers ago, and 
I’ve never heard you say anything about it. 
Give us an account of that trip. 

Ned stretched himself into a comfortable 
position. “ Well, boys, if you can stand it, all 
right;. You know that there are times when 
pleasuring, like business, tires one. Going the 
round of the seaside resorts in a few years gets 
to be monotonous, and the victim yawns, and 
wearily asks himself, “ What need.” I had come 
to just this point, and was yearning for some- 
thing new and out of the ordinary line. But 
three weeks of my summer vacation had passed, 
and already I was wearied. I had tried Ocean 
Grove, Long Branch, and Atlantic City, and 
left each in turn disgusted. I thought of New- 


133 


port, but that did not seem favorable — of course 
I intended to go there to the fall tennis tourna- 
ments, but that was a long way off. Interme- 
diate time — what ? As I asked myself the ques- 
tion, my eyes wandered around the room aim- 
lessly, as if seeking an answer to my question 
written upon the wall, and finally my eyes rested 
upon my bicycle. '‘By, jove ! here’s an idea. 
A country tour on my wheel.” I was delighted. 
Here indeed was a chance for variety, that 
had the promise of being novel and entertain- 
ing. My decision was soon made. On the wheel 
it was, and I sent the machine to the repair-shop 
to be overhauled and put in first-class travelling 
order. My personal preparations were soon 
made. A capacious travelling bag strapped to 
the backbone of the wheel carried a change of 
clothes, a few toilet necessaries, needle and 
thread, scissors and writing material, weighing 
in all about fifteen pounds. My tool-bag I 
packed with everything necessary to keep my 
wheel in order, and thus equipped I mounted 
my wheel one morning in the latter part of July 
and started on what I intended to be a summer 
trip. 


134 : 


I had no definite objective point in view. I 
rode till night overtook me, and then looked 
around for a place to get supper and lodging. I 
would stop and get dinner wherever I happened 
to be at noon, that is if in the vicinity of human 
habitation. Several times I got pretty hungry, 
and it was late in the afternoon when I partook 
of what should have been my mid-day meal. If 
the day was warm and the roads dusty, I stopped 
at some country hotel or staid with some ac- 
commodating farmer who was willing to turn an 
honest penny by keeping wanderer for a day 
or two, and the fare at the farm houses was in- 
variably better than that at the country hotels. 
Travelling in this way, enjoying myself as never 
before, I travelled through the northeastern part 
of Pennsylvania and in southern New York, 
taking my time and visiting every place of inter- 
est I chanced to be near or hear of. I was sun- 
burned as brown as an Indian, had an appetite 
like an elephant, and was in fact in splendid 
condition physicially and mentally. My appear- 
ance had changed so that I doubt if my uncle 
would have known me. 

My journey was lengthening out, and the last 


135 


days of August passing swiftly as I began to 
think of making my way back to the city. I 
wanted to wheel through Sullivan and Orange 
counties, so I decided to turn my wheel in the 
direction of New York, going through those 
counties and across into the hills of northern 
New Jersey, through to the beautiful Passaic 
Valley, and thence along the valley back to 
home and work. 

I made my way slowly along my .route, de- 
termined to make the best of the last days of 
my tour, sketching everything that struck me as 
picturesque, and gathering many slight memen- 
tos of my journey. One cool September even- 
ing I was hurrying along to reach a small town 
about five miles ahead of me, where I intended 
to stop for the night, when, miserable mischance ! 
my wheel struck a root in the side-path, and 
before I had tim6 to save myself or hardly think, 
I was precipitated, wheel and all, headlong down 
the bank. My last remembrance was of a sharp 
pain in my left arm and head, and then all was 
a blank ; and how long I lay there I do not 
know. When my senses returned it was quite 
dark ; my clothing was wet with the dew, and 


136 


the terrible pain in my arm convinced me that 
it was broken. I put my hand to my head and 
felt it covered with congealed blood, and I could 
feel that in my fall I had torn the side of my 
head considerable. The thought of my injuries 
and pains, coupled with the loneliness of the 
place, made me sick, and I again sank upon the 
ground unconscious, and I remembered no more 
until a rustling by my head aroused me, and I 
opened my eyes to find it broad daylight, and 
then, as I tried to move my arm, the accident 
of the night came back to me. I looked around, 
bewildered. I was not outdoors beside the road, 
but lying on a very soft and comfortable bed, 
and the question naturally arose in my rapidly- 
clearing brain, where ? As I moved, a kindly 
masculine voice said, ''Well, my friend, you’re 
coming round again, hey ? How do you feel ?” 
And as I moved my head, " More careful ; that 
head-piece of yours has had some rough usage.” 
His injunction about my head was unnecessary ; 
I felt that it had had some banging for a fact, 
and that it was pretty well bandaged, as was my 
arm. When I turned so I could see him, I 
beheld a fine-looking young man, with a very 


137 


genial, good-natured face, but an entire stranger 
to me. “ How did I get here and where am 
I?” I asked. “You were carried here,” he re- 
plied, “ and I guess you are in tolerably good 
hands.” “Yes, I don’t doubt that,” I replied; 
“ but when was I brought here ?” “ You were 

brought here night before last — you and your 
wheel, in a generally broken-up condition.” 
“ How long did I lie in the road, and who found 
me?” “ Now, if you will just keep quiet, I will 
tell you in detail,” he replied, “ for I see you 
want the returns. You were found lying insen- 
sible beside the road by my cousin Emma. She 
saw that you were badly hurt, and hurried back 
to the nearest neighbor’s to get help. On the 
way back to where you were I chanced to over- 
take them, and as I had a large wagon you were 
loaded in, and we brought you here, home, and 
sent for a doctor, and he patched you up. He 
said your hurts are nothing of a serious nature, 
beyond the broken arm. You remained uncon- 
scious from the loss of blood.” “ You have my 
hearty thanks,” I replied, “for what you have 
done for me, an entire stranger.” “Now be 




138 


quiet about all that,” he 'replied ; I saw your 
L. A. W. badge,” and he showed one on his 
own vest lappel. I thought you could not be 
such a very bad fellow.” “Well,” I replied, 
“ there are some things we’ll have to talk about 
later, and so if you will kindly look in my coat 
pocket you will find my card.’’ He laughed as 
he said, “Well, as you are a sick man, I won’t 
hand you a card, but I answer to the hail of 
Harry Raynor.” 

He shortly after introduced me to his father, 
mother, sister, and cousin Emma, who comprised 
the family, and nothing could exceed their kind- 
liness. My strength did not come back as rap- 
idly as I wished, and the days grew to weeks 
before I was sufficiently recovered to sit up and 
walk around. All this time the friends I had 
been thrown among did everything in their 
power to make my involuntary stay pleasant 
and me feel at home, especially cousin Emma. 
And as I slowly recovered, I began to dread the 
time when my disabilities would no longer be 
an excuse for prolonging my stay ; for the first 
time in my life I confess I was a victim to the 



140 


Somehow or other my summer on a wheel was 
not ending as I had planned, but I do not know 
that I would have had it otherwise, ^ One after- 
noon as we were standing beneath a spreading 
old chestnut tree, I asked Cousin Emma (for I 
called her cousin like the others) a question, at 
which she blushed and finally said '‘Yes.” A 
few days after I put my wheel on the train and 
went back to New York; and I went back a 
very happy man, as Cousin Emma had promised 
to be my wife, and thus ended my “ Summer on 
a Wheel.” 


THE HAUNTED MANSION. 


NE afternoon a few years 
ago, while on one of my 
bicycle rambles, I found my- 
self lazily pushing my wheel 
along the beautiful Passaic 
Valley, in New Jersey. 
There are many little beauty spots in New 
Jersey, nothing very grand to awe, but beauti- 
ful hills and undulating valleys that are as much 
sought for by the lover of nature as the grand 
and sublime, and I know of no spot more pic- 
turesque and lovely in this respect than this 
comparatively unknown Passaic Valley. Many 
of its delightful landscapes have been caught by 
the magic of my camera and adorn the pictorial 
record of my flights by wheel. 

On this particular afternoon, I was making 
my way along the valley by a road new to me 







and was enjoying from the saddle, to the fullest 
extent, all the beauties presented. 

I dismounted at a spring at the roadside to 
quench my thirst and for a few moments, rest. 
Peering through the tall, thick hedge of sassa- 
frass and cat briers, that grew where the fence 
was supposed to be, I was astonished to see, a 
short distance back in the field, the deplorable 
ruin of what had at one time been a large and 
elegant residence. “ Here is a chance for in- 
vestigation and a view,” was my mental com- 
ment. So chaining my wheel to a sapling 
beside the road, I threw the strap of my camera 
case over my shoulder and made my way to the 
old house. It was indeed a picture of desola- 
tion and neglect. The paint had long since 
yielded to the action of the elements, and the 
windows were devoid of glass ; one side of the 
entire structure had fallen down, leaving the 
fioors of the second and third stories swaying 
and stretching out, as if in blind attempt to reach 
the support which should be there. The wild 
brier wound about the columns of the portico, 
and rank weeds waved above the threshold of 
the door. In contemplating this strange ruin. 


143 


I became lost in reverie as my mind conjured 
up what might be phantoms of its past. 

How long I stood there I do not know, when 
a voice near me asked : 

“ What do you see to admire, stranger ? 

Startled from my reverie, I turned, and stand- 
ing near me, was a little old man, whose dress 
and kindly face betokened him to be something 
other than one of the people around there. 
He was dressed in black, and what was most 
noticeable about him was his long white hair 
which fell in graceful curls on his shoulders from 
beneath a black slouch hat. 

Individually, nothing ; collectively, all,” I 
replied ; and then waited for him to speak again. 

You admire it collectively, for its aspect of 
ruin ?” he asked. Can you admire decay ?” 

Yes, if it is noble.” 

Fie eyed me closely for a moment, and then 
asked : You are not of these parts ?” 

“ No,” I replied, I am travelling, and in 
stopping at the spring to drink and looking 
through the hedge saw the house and came over 
for a closer look at it.” 

'‘Then,” said he, "you have never heard its 


144 


Story. Come sit with me on its old door-stone 
and I will tell you something of it.” 

So brushing the weeds from the broad door- 
stone, we seated ourselves, and he told me the 
story of the house. 

'*This house, since the day it was finished, 
has never been inhabited. No fire has ever 
warmed its hearth-stone, nor has a light at night 
ever beamed from these now vacant and staring 
windows, its walls have never echoed to the 
laugh of youth or the sigh of age. It has been 
a house— a structure — never a habitation, a 
home. It was built by Daniel Pratt nearly half 
a century ago. When he built this house, he 
was in the strength and vigor of manhood at 
twenty-two. There is seldom a human being 
starts on the road of life with brighter prospects. 
All the land around here was his birthright, and 
well filled barns spoke of the fruitfulness of the 
soil. What more natural, with everything of 
fair promise, than that he should look about him 
for a wife and helpmeet. Daniel was handsome 
in those days, and more than one lass would 
have been pleased had she been asked to link 
her fortune with his. In course of time, Daniel 




146 


began showing marked attention to the daughter 
of a farmer living a few miles away, and it was 
not long before the gossips said that they were 
plighted. Belle Markham was pretty, but she 
was rather harem-scarem, and of course every- 
body said that she was not the woman for Daniel 
Pratt. She was what you would call a Tom- 
boy in these days ; she would ride the wildest 
horse or climb the tallest chestnut tree. With 
her rifle, she would bring the squirrel from his 
perch in the hickory, or stop the marauding 
hawk in his aerial flight. Daniel admired these 
wild ways, and used to say : ‘ When we are mar- 
ried she will settle down all right.’ So he went 
along just as happy as could be. Belle was his 
promised wife, and that he might have a fitting 
place ta take his bride, this house was built ; 
and I tell you it was a grand house in those 
days ! people came miles to see the ‘ big house/ 
as it was called. Daniel superintended its con- 
struction himself and paid the greatest attention 
to every detail. When the house was finished, 
then came the furnishing. The furniture all came 
from New York, and with it a small army of 
workmen from the city. Carpets such as had 


146 


never been seen in this part of the world were 
cut and laid, beds were draped, windows were 
shaded, everything in grand style ; and to cap all, 
a harpsichord that came from across the water 
was brought and set in the grand parlor. During 
all the building and fixing, the to-be bride never 
once saw the house or. any of its furnishings. 
Daniel had asked her to come, but she had a 
whim that she did not want to see it until she 
went there as his bride, and Daniel, much dis- 
appointed humored her. At last everything 
was finished and in order, even to the sparkling 
glassware on the sideboards and the wood in the 
great fireplace ready for the spark. The day 
of the wedding came, and Daniel, with a gay 
cavalcade of his friends, set out to claim his 
bride. 

“They were heartily welcomed at the Mark- 
ham homestead, and the bride in apparently the 
best of spirits, withdrew to prepare for the 
ceremony. The time for the ceremony came, 
the guests were ready, the minister in his robes 
stood waiting, but the bride tarried. Five, ten, 
fifteen minutes passed, but she did not come. 
One of the girls was sent to hasten her, and 


T ' came back with a blanched face. She was not ' 
i there. Her bridal dress had not been touched. 

All was confusion in an instant ; lights 
P flashed to and fro, men muttered and hurried 

it 

: away, women wept and rung their hand ; the 



bride had disappeared as effectually as though 
the earth had opened and swallowed her. The 


t The story of Ginervra rushed to their minds, 
p and every place was searched. At last they ^ 

^ went to the stables to get the horses to search 

the roads, when they discovered that two of the^, 

^ 


horses were missing. This added to the com- 
plications concerning the missing bride. They 
were soon set at rest, however, by one of the 
farm hands, 'a half-witted fellow, approaching 
Daniel and giving him a letter. What had been 
a growing suspicion in his mind was confirmed. 
His promised wife had fled with another. Her 
note told in a few words, that she had fled with 
her cousin whom she loved better than Daniel. 

'' Upon inquiry of the bearer of the letter, the 
farm hand said that it was given him by a lady 
whom he did not know, and told him to give it 
to Mr. Pratt when the clock struck ten,^and not 
thinking that it might have any bearing on the 
disappearance of the bride, kept it until the 
clock struck, as requested. 

She had gone with her cousin, a sort of 
ne’er-do-well, a sailor, who was a former lover 
and who had returned just in time to coax her 
off with him. 

Daniel ordered that they should not be pur- 
sued, and rode back home speaking never a 
word to any. He spent the balance of that 
night in his house alone ; they would not leave 
him until he promised to do no harm to himself. 


149 


The next morning he locked the house up and 
made a solemn vow that no one should ever live 
in it, but that it should stand as a monument to 
his ruined hope and blasted life. He was a 
strange man, this Daniel Pratt. 

“Years passed, and the house was never 
opened ; moth and mould silently did their 
work. One night in a heavy gale, this side of 
the house fell down, and it was something sad 
to see the rooms all set as they were locked up. 
After that, the things began to disappear, no- 
body knew how, and now everything has been 
carried away, except the harpsichord, and that 
you can see standing in the old parlor yet. 

“Word was taken to Daniel that the old 
house was falling to pieces, but he would not 
have a nail driven in it to save it ; his orders 
always were, ‘ Let it alone and when told that 
the furnishings were disappearing, he said ‘ Let 
them go, they may do some good.’ He never 
married, but went to work on the farm a terri- 
ble changed man ; he seldom spoke to anyone 
except to give orders, and would sit for hours 
alone ; but many of the poor people bless him. 


150 


There is many a load of wood and sack of flour 
that find their way to the door where they are 
most needed and at the proper time. 

Word came a few years after Belle ran away 
that the ship commanded by her husband had 
been lost at sea, and all on board had perished. 
After that they said that the house was haunted 
and people have given it a wide birth. Time is 
is doing its work, and the old house will soon 
crumble and fall to dust, as will the body of its 
owner. It is a sad story, stranger ; ponder on 
it, it may do you goo do Good-bye for ever, 
stranger.” 

The old man arose, and before I could say a 
word, passed rapidly from sight in the gathering 
twilight, which had come without my noticing 
it, so fixed had my attention been by the strange 
recital. I arose as in a dream, and hurried back 
to my wheel. As I forced my way through the 
hedge, a countryman who chanced to be passing, 
looked at me in open-mouthed wonder. 

Did you meet anyone on the road above 
here ? ” I asked. 

Yes,” he replied. 




151 


‘‘Who was it?” I asked again. 

“ Daniel Pratt, God bless him,” was his reply, 
as he eyed me half fearfully and moved rapidly 
away in the gathering darkness. 


152 



A WHEELMAN IN THE AIR. 


‘‘You fellows can talk about the wonderful 
trips you have had and of strange happenings, 
but I think an experience of mine lays over 
them all,” said the captain, as we were resting 
beside the road after the climb up Eagle Rock 
hill. 

“ If youVc anything wonderful, talk it off,” 




153 ^ 


said the fat man who always wanted to rest 
fifteen minutes for every quarter of an hour he 
was on his wheel. 

All right, I will,” replied the captain. Did 
you ever start out for a ride on your wheel 
and finish up with a trip in a balloon. Well, 
I guess you did not. I did not know myself 
how the trip was going to end. You see it 
was this way : I started out one afternoon 
for a spin on my wheel and was going along 
at a pretty good pace, when all at once some- 
thing came up behind me and caught under 
the saddle of my wheel. 1 turned around to 
see what it was, and just then there was a 
yank, and I threw out my hand expecting to 
take a header; my hand came in contact with 
something and instinctively I grasped it, at the 
same instant I felt something catch in my 
trousers leg and pull up. I held on to the ob- 
ject that I had grasped as I felt that I was sus- 
pended in the air. I looked, and behold I was 
holding to a rope and looking down saw that 
an iron hook had caught in my pantaloons. I 
looked up and was horrified to see that the rope 
hung suspended from a balloon fully five hun- 


154 


dred feet above. I was terribly scared and was 
just about to let go and drop off the hook when 
I thought to look down and see how far I had 
to drop. Moses Taylor ! how scared I was ! 
I was swinging over a woods and about fifty 
feet above the tops of the trees. I shut my 
eyes and shuddered until the pennies in my 
pocket rattled. There I was two or three hun- 
dred feet in the air and hanging by my hands 
and the leg of my pantaloons. 

I felt a slight jerk and upon looking up I 
saw that the man in the balloon was pulling in 
on the rope and drawing me up to the balloon. 
When he saw me he called out : 

‘‘'Hang on, young feller, and I’ll pull you in.” 
You can bet that I hung on. Slowly, hand 
over hand he pulled in on the rope, and finally 
I was up in the basket. Then warning me to 
be careful, he fastened the rope some way, and 
reaching over caught hold of my coat collar, 
then exclaiming : “ Come, join the king of the 
air,” he pulled me over into the basket. 

As soon as I could draw my breath regular 
again, I delivered an address to the king in no 
very complimentary terms concerning my first 





I “ hold my jaw and sit still,” in such a superior - i 
manner that I silently complied, and with bris- | 
tling hair and quaking nerves, gave myself unre- 5 
servedly to the pleasures of the hour. It soon 
became apparent from his actions that the king 
of the air was off his throne and about as badly 
scared as I was. This of course made me feel 
awful good, and so safe and secure; it was 
about like putting kerosene on a coal fire to , J 
put it out. For a few moments the king flew 
around in a very unkingly way and pitched out 
all the base-ball base bags that we had in the 
basket, and then looked enviously at me. Sub- 

A T, 

quent events proved that it was lucky for both 
that he did not send me after the base bags. 

Look out, young fellow, Fm going to pull 
the rip-string,” remarked the king, and began 
climbing into the netting. I supposed that ' 
pulling of the rip-string was something serious ; 
so, if possible, I was more on the vive than 
before. The king climbed up to the end of the 
gas-bag eind caught hold of a rope, giving it a 
fierce yank ; the rope broke short off, and the ^ 
king slipped and came head first into the basket, 


156 


with his legs hanging over the edge. I con- 
cluded in my own mind that if that perform- 
ance was pulling the rip-string, I didn’t want to 
pull a rip-string. As the king made no effort 
to get entirely into the basket again with both 
feet, but hung there like a dead cat over a 
clothes’-line, I concluded that he might have 
made another mistake, so I pulled him into the 
basket. When I got him in I was horribly 
cheered to find that he was unconscious. He 
came to in a few moments and acknowledged 
that his collar-bone was broken and his leg 
wrenched, and also that it was my turn to climb 
up into the netting and let down the grapple, 
else we would soon be in Lake Erie. When 
I thoroughly understood what he meant, I was 
homesick, and offered to pay for it if he would 
get someone else to do the work, but there was 
no going behind the returns ; I was elected and 
had to do it. With an admonition from the 
king to drop it in the basket, and my knife be- 
tween my teeth, I did the most ticklish bit of 
climbing I ever attempted. I was not a bit 
scared, I only had a chill and a great boundless 
longing to scratch gravel. I reached carefully 


167 


out and cut the string that held the grapple. 
A yell, and a double handful of cuss-talk con- 
vinced me that the grapple had fallen into the 
basket, and I carefully crawfished back to the 
willow. The grapple had dropped in the king’s 
lap, and he was caressing his other leg, and 
using choice bits of anti-missionary phrases. 

I made the rope fast and let the grapple over. 
Then the fun commenced in earnest. The 
grapple trailed along behind on the ground and 
put in its work like a veteran. Under more 
favorable circumstances I think that I could 
have enjoyed loafing around in the atmosphere 
fishing for' the earth. The first thing that the 
grapple did when it got down among the inhab- 
itants was to take a large bite out of a nice 
picket fence and wipe it through a field of 
grain ; it dropped that to upset a stack of hay. 
We neared a house just as a woman was at the 
well drawing up water. She did not see us as 
the grapple came along and took the well-top, 
buckets and all, up by the roots right in front of 
her and danced merrily away with them. We 
could hear her scream with fright. The grapple 
dropped the well-top but hung on to the buckets 


158 


and rope which it slashed around reckless, now 
pulling down a few panels of fence or dragging 
through a corn field. A man, seeing us go 
over, ran and caught hold of the bucket rope. 
For an instant I saw the nails in his shoes glis- 
ten in the sunlight and then he disappeared in 
the top of a large chestnut tree. Finally the 
well rope wound around a church spire, and, 
after nearly pulling it over, it dropped it and 
took off part of the roof of a house, sending the 
inmates skurrying out in a hurry. The next 
that it struck was the rear of a farmer’s wagon, 
as he was driving quietly along the road. One 
swoop and the farmer and his horses were stood 
on their heads, while the rear wheels of the 
wagon were dropped on the roof of ,a house in 
the next county. That infernal grapple worked 
for all there was in it. I tried to pull it up, but 
I came near being jerked out of the basket. 
All I could do was to wait for it to catch some- 
thing that would hold it. Several times it came 
near catching the people, and T was in mortal 
terror that it would. Once it just grazed a lo- 
comotive as we crossed above a railroad ; it 
pulled up ,a bridge and knocked down a corn- 


159 


crib with it, picked a boat out of a pond and 
dropped it through a green-house top ; it then 
caught into the second-story window of a house 
and held. The people came out in a hurry to 
see who was fooling with the house, and among 
them was a man whose remarks were not at all 
flattering. The conversation we carried on was 
something like this : 

Man — What are you doing up there ?’' 

I — ‘‘Nothing.” 

Man — “ Get out of that.” 

I — “ Come up and put me out.” 

Man — “ Come down here and pay this dam- 
age.” 

I — << Come up some time and bring your bill. 
Tve got an attachment on your premises and 
Fm waiting for help to raise it.” 

Man — “ Fll help you raise it.” Here he 
rushes in the house and comes back accom- 
panied by a gun. “ Come out of that now or 
Fll fire into you.” 

I pick up our last base bag, and, raising it, 
“You fire and Fll drop this on you.” 

Tableaux, also slow music, same as when the 
villain carries off the girl. 


160 


At this instant the wind veered a little and 
drew the grapple rope tight with a jerk, throw- 
ing me against the side of the basket and the 
sand-bag dropped out of my hand and went 
through the roof of the house. Bang! went 
the gun just as another puff of wind pulled the 
grapple loose, and we went cheerily on our way, 
the grapple grabbing, digging, tearing, ripping 
along the face of the earth in our wake. At 
every opportunity I shortened the rope a bit, 
which kept bringing us nearer the ground. 
Each time the grapple caught anything it gave 
us a jerk that made the poor king of the air 
groan with pain, and sometimes nearly throw us 
out of the basket. Finally, after toying with 
several chimneys and mixing a stack of corn- 
stalks with the roof of a pig-pen, we arose again 
and sailed over a wood. The old gas-bag began 
to go groggy, the grapple caught in the top of 
a large tree and held. Slowly and tenderly, 
withal firmly, with a delicacy of touch, under 
ordinary circumstances a stranger to me, I pulled 
in on that rope. I brought the basket down to 
the top of the tree, tied it fast, and then went 
to look for help to get the king of the air down 


161 


out of his element. Y ou can wager that I was 
glad to hit dirt once more. After a tramp of 
about two miles I found an honest granger, 
who, only after the promise of big money, 
would go back and help me get the king of the 
air out of the balloon, which we accomplished 
by tying him in a sling and letting him down 
with ropes. Under pretense of staying to tie 
up the balloon, I let the others go. Just as 
soon as the sound of the wagon died away in the 
distance I made the liveliest kind of tracks the 
other way. A ten mile walk brought me to a 
railroad depot ninety miles from home, but, 
under cover of darkness and a freight car, I 
reached home the next day, and even now if I 
hear of a balloon ascension within ten miles of 
me, I go home and crawl under the bed ; I can’t 
trust myself out of doors. But, come on boys, 
let’s jog along. 




162 


A SUNDAY RIDE TO CONEY ISLAND. 


A FRIEND from the west who was spending a 
few days in New York, was very desirous that 
I should take a ride with him Sunday to the 
famed Coney Island. I was not over pleased 
with the idea, but to please him decided to go. 
Early in the morning we took the Hoboken 
ferry to New York, and rode over to Brooklyn 
by way of the great bridge, and struck out 
toward the island. The roads are fair and the 
scenery certainly very fine if you go the road 
by way of the bay. There were so many car- 
riages going in the same direction that it was not 
very pleasant wheeling, but we managed to get 
along. 

After this trip, I am sorry to say that I can- 
not recommend Coney Island as a Sunday re- 
sort for wheelmen. It is not on acoount of the 
roads, but on account of what I found Coney 
Island to be, and I will devote more description 
to the place than to its approaches. 


Coney Island, taken on a week-day, is very 
quiet and uninteresting save in the evenings. 
Sunday is when it can be seen in full blast. 
The iron steamboats come in from New York 
each half hour and unload their living freight at 
the immense iron piers, trains run on the Coney 
Island Railroad every few minutes, bringing in 
their quota from Brooklyn and drop them at the 
sheds a short distance from the beach ; the 
crowd coming in by both means of approach 
numbering way up in the thousands, besides those 
who drive there in carriages. 

I had not been to Coney Island in many 
years, and it was hard for me to realize that I 
was in a place that I had ever visited before. 
The low, rudely built houses that dotted the 
beach here and there years ago, for the accom- 
modation of those who wished to bathe, are re- 
placed by long lines of bathing houses that com- 
pletely spoil the view of the beach. Back from 
the water line, where was but a barren waste of 
white sand, now stands buildings in regular 
order along a street with pavilions, merry-go- 
rounds, switch-back railroads, rifle ranges, and 
innumerable booths and stands. The amount 




164 

of money that has been expended in erecting 
buildings here is prodigious, and ^ves some 
idea of what the number of visitors must be to 
make such outlay paying investments. 



Walking along the street on Sunday, the 
sights and sounds that greet one are not calcu- 
lated to remind one that he is in a Christian 
land within a few miles of a city famed for its 


churches, and that the day is the Christian Sab- 
bath. It is more like a gathering of all nations 
in one wild carnival of Bacchus. It would 
seem as though everyone who visits Coney 
Island is a beer-drinker. You cannot go fifty 
feet along the street without passing a place for 
the sale of beer. Let us enter here where a 
loud-voiced, besotted looking man stands at the 
door of a building, the front of which is covered 
with gigantic paintings of alleged monstrosities, 
and frantically importunes the passers by to 
'‘Walk in and see the greatest Wonders of the 
Earth. Just time to see the curiosities before 
the theatrical performance begins ! ” Pay ten 
cents and pass in. You will probably see half 
a dozen foolish frivolous things called curiosi- 
ties, such as the skeleton of a monkey attached 
to the tail of a fish and labeled “ Mermaid,” a 
hideous paper figure representing some criminal 
and perhaps a fat woman, posed by the wall 
around a dirty, ill-smelling room, in the centre 
of which tables are arranged for the dispensing 
of the ever-present beer. At one end of the 
room is an attempt at a stage, a tottering wreck 
of a man strikes up a combination of discords 


1G6 


on a wretched piano. The theatrical perform- 
ance begins. A female in a costume that would 
make the average ballet-dancer blush, comes out 
on the stage and sings in shrill, cracked voice a 
low love song. The crowd of men and women 
at the tables drinking beer, pay scarcely any at- 
tention to her, and she goes off the stage unap- 
plauded save for the pounding on the floor by 
one or two maudlin individuals who sit at a table 
near the stage. A male singer makes his ap- 
pearance and sings a vulgar song, something 
about “swiping hens,” and is in turn followed by 
a darkey farce lasting about ten minutes, the 
obscene insinuations spoken and acted, calling a 
little more of the attention of the audience 
from their beer glasses ! — this closes the theatri- 
cal performance and you move out in the open 
air. Everywhere you are beset by venders of 
something — suspenders, combs, smoked eye- 
glasses, matches, shoe blacking, cigars are all 
thrust in your face with request to buy. Merry- 
go-rounds whirled by steam engines to the squal- 
ling of a barrel organ, stands at frequent inter- 
vals, and the shouts of the riders, mingled with 
the bawling of the museum shouters, rise above 





the general din of yelling and cursing. It is a 
pandemonia on earth. 

In one place a huge wooden structure in the 
form of an elephant, rises to a height of nearly 


A SUNDAY SACRED(?) CONCERT. 

two hundred feet. Ten cents is the charge for 
the privilege of exploring the internal arrange- 
ment, and a steady stream of humanity makes 
its way into the building to sample the beer sold 
within. A short distance away in competition 


168 


with the elephant, a tall tower reaches skyward. 
Steam elevators carry passengers up the dizzy 
height, but the tower was not being well pat- 
ronized, there was no beer sold at the top. 

Night comes on and the electric light sheds 
its white glare over the scene, giving the faces 
of the people death-like whiteness. The mad 
abandon of the previous hours, breaks out with 
increased vigor. The museum shouters yell 
louder, the organs and whistles work with dou- 
bled energy, the crash of brass is furious, the 
waiters rush hither and thither in the crowd 
that seems to be tormented with an unquencha- 
ble thirst, dealing out their loads of glasses 
foaming with beer. The potations of the after- 
noon begins to work, the crowd is careless, 
noisy, loud. Laughing, screeching, swearing, 
with ribald jest and bacchanalian song the revelry 
goes on. A multitude gone mad, save for a 
few to pass aniong them and gaze silent and 
wonder-eyed at the wild throng, as though doubt- 
ing the evidence of their own senses. It is now 
that the vampires come out for their prey. The 
brazen-faced harlot openly solicits as the flashy- 
dressed pick-pocket plys his avocation on the 


unsuspecting at her side ; low-browed ruffians 
lurk in dark places and on the skirts of the 
circle of light ready to pounce upon the stranger 
or the inebriate who comes within their reach, 
a blow from a billy or sand-bag and the victim 
sinks with a shuddering moan upon the white 
sands, and in an instant everything of value, 
sometimes even his clothing, is stripped from 
him, and he is left to come to his senses or die, 
according to the force of the blow that felled 
him. Day after day the unknown dead are 
picked up in New York’s bay and rivers. Who 
can tell how many of these poor distorted 
bodies, once the habitation of a human soul, 
started on their watery journey from Coney 
Island. 

Slowly my friend and I made our way to the 
boat with our wheels, and took places among 
those who sat silent and sullen as though loth 
to quit the orgies, were going back to the city. 
We swung out from the pier, and as the lights 
grew dim and the babel of infernal noises grew 
faint in the distance, my friend raised both 
hands toward heaven, and exclaimed, My God, 
what a place ! ” And so would others exclaim, 


170 


did they see it in all its hideousness of vice, 
which is none the less hideous because it is 
tolerated; none the less wicked because it is on 
the soil of New York, and at the door of a 
great city. It is not one whit less of a blot on 
the face of the fair earth because it is within 
sound of a hundred church bells, or within call 
of the law that could suppress it. If anyone 
doubts my description let them go there any 
time within the next three months and they will 
find it reeking with its moral corruption, that is, 
if the ocean does not rise and sweep the treach- 
erous white sand away within that time, which 
would be a blessing to New York and to the ris- 
ing generation, who would thereby be spared its 
contaminating influences. No, Sir! No more 
Coney Island in mine. 


THE END. 


GATHERED GEMS. 

A Netv JBookf Comprising a Series of 

Thirty of the Best Serinons 

EVER DELIVERED I ? 


REV. T. DE WITT TALi/./-.(iL, 


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ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT 
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If you pre, j’^ou ought to buy the new book, Palliser^s 
American A rchifectare, or every man a complete builder, 
prepared by Palliser, Palliser & Co., the well known architects. 

There is no^ a Builder or any one intending to Build or 
otherwise interested that can afford to be without it. It is a 
practical work and everybody buys it. The best, cheapest and 
most popular work ever issued on building. Nearly four hun- 
dred drawings. A $5 book in size and style, but we have deter- 
mined to make it meet the popular demand to suit the times, so 
that it can be easily reached by all. 

This book contains 104 pages 11 x 14 inches in size, and con- 
sists of large 9x 12 plate pages giving plans, elevations, per- 
spective views, descriptions, owners’ names, actual cost of con- 
struction, no fjness work^ and instructions How to Unild 
70 Cottages, Villas, Double Houses, Brick Block Houses, suitable 
for city suburbs, town and country, houses for the farm and 
workingmen’s homes for all sections of the country, and costing 
from $300 to $6,500 ; also Barns, Stables, School House, Town 
Hall, Churches, and other public buildings, together with speci- 
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[Hon. Hrnrv Watterson in Answers 
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your letter, but, as you finish reading this, enclose a one dollar bill in your lettei 
and send it at our risk. Address all orders to 



GASKELL’S COMPENDIUM, P. 0. Box 2767, New York, 






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